Mass Effect: Eyes in the Shadows
by Dr.Compass
Summary: The Terran Republic has found its place in the Galaxy, but something much greater has caught their attention. In the wake of Cobalt Squad's "betrayal" lies a mystery that concerns the Protheans, those before them, and all races present in the modern era. Who are they, and can everyone prepare for such an insurmountable threat? Rated M for touchy topics, part 2 of Distanced.
1. Chapter 1: The End of an Era

(A/N): Regardless of what is said or done, I'm still kicking myself over how foreseeable Alice's death was. I know shit happens, and burning all someone cares for in life in the blink of an eye is an overused method of character development, but I honestly how I could damage Fredrick as a character otherwise while ensuring his long-term survival. Also, I did raise the age rating because hospital bombings are not dinner table conversation, nor is half of the deaths of random bystanders so far. That being said, people choking on toxic gas was what I didn't have in mind when I was writing this chapter, but it came out anyways because it seemed like a good idea. As per usual, I only own the characters of my writing, Bioware and Electronic Arts own Mass Effect. Be sure to critique, or PM me if you have questions.

Chapter 1: The End of an Era

 _I should've learned to let go when I saw her on Illium. Now she's dead, and the Galaxy looks to us with questions to which we don't have the answers. It had been decided among high command that Cobalt be deemed supremacist traitors until we find a more concrete solution. It pains me to know that as much of a caring person and brave fighter Alice was, her name, title, and record are spat upon to save the rest of us from the glaring eyes of the public. After the crazed killing spree Cobalt went on, all that we have done until this point, trade, justice, social networking with other species has all been for nothing._

* * *

 **June 12, 2069**

 **10 hrs/14 min/41 sec**

 **Terran Embassy Infirmary, Citadel Station**

Fredrick sat in his hospital room for a couple of days now. He ordered biometric scan after biometric scan, eager to discern any sign of infection. While he had no issue joining Alice in death, he still wished to find those who captured Benjamin and the artifact, and he especially wanted to find Nazara and his kind, and put an end to them. As much as he craved death and destruction at that point, he still had little idea of where to start besides the Minos Wastelands. His mind kept going back to the council meeting, where various Terran officers had approached them with "evidence" suggesting Alice and her team were all traitors who sought to kill the council, essentially making her a scapegoat.

Suddenly, a medical officer as well as Commander Burke entered his room. Fredrick glanced up, giving a look of curiosity. "What are the results, commander?"

"Well, as was the case for the last few scans, we have found nothing suggesting you are infected. No tumors or malformations of any sort, and all neurological patterns are still normal. The only difference is that we're picking up signs of new software on your systems. While it isn't anything particularly harmful to you, we are unsure of what it can do. Regardless of what we believe, the worm and its coding as intertwined with your own. What you can and will do with it is up to you," the medical officer explained.

"Understood. So, am I free to go commander?" Fredrick asked.

"That's what I'd like to discuss, major," Burke started. "I've talked matters over with other officers. Firstly, you and the other members of Crimson are the best we have, and you know it. We can't risk you all getting infected simultaneously, so we're dissolving Crimson squad and having you shipped off to various divisions. Secondly, we are all aware this last fight had more impact on you than any of the others, both physically and mentally. I hereby authorize you to take sick-leave for four weeks time. I know you are angry, but we've got to face the facts. Even if you could prove someone was responsible for turning Cobalt Squad, especially if it was one of the council races, there is still no way to prove they were no longer acting within the confines of their own consciousness. What's more important is how they turned, who made that artifact you crushed, and what are there bigger implications than are presented. We're going to be in a world of hurt if we have some unknown faction that is quietly taking potshots from the shadows at us."

Fredrick's heart sank. He was being split up from his team. His soulmate was now dead, and now he was being grounded for far too long. But he needed answers, even if he couldn't use them to gain justice for the fallen. "Sir, permission to go as I please, and bring my equipment along?"

"What did you have in mind, major?" Burke asked.

"Closure, sir. I want to go out on my own to the Minos Wastelands. We still have the last known coordinates of Pragar's group, same location Benjamin was tracked last before his brain was fried. With any luck, I could find who hired him," Fredrick answered simply.

Commander Burke grunted with discomfort. "Major, look. To reiterate, the officers you've served under, myself included, very well know that you and Sergeant Noel were especially close. I can understand what sort of emotional trauma you're going through and going out to shoot some more won't help that."

"With all due respect sir, that relationship is in the past and is none of your concern. I'm ready to move along," Fredrick said in annoyance. He still remembered vividly the emotional pain after he killed Alice. It was something he didn't want to go back to.

Burke put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't lie to me son. And don't you dare lie to yourself. Cobalt was a loss felt by everyone in the uniform. They were brothers and sisters, friends, family, lovers, you name it. They each meant something to us. Alice included," he uttered menacingly.

For a brief moment, Fredrick broke eye contact, looked off to the side as the commander finished.

"See? Even mentioning her name brings back the pain. You need rest, it isn't healthy to work while you are injured. Even with what we have," Burke said, furthering his point.

"Just let me go to the Minos Wastelands sir. I'll be discrete," Fredrick pushed, returning his gaze.

"So be it. But other than your own equipment, you'll have to find a way to get out there on your own. Perhaps the new virus on your system will grant you passage to something useful, but we can't be held accountable for any actions you take. Not after... this," the commander sighed.

* * *

 **20 hrs/13 min/19 sec**

 **Citadel Docks, Citadel Station**

Already, Fredrick felt alone without his team at his side. The eerie silence over what would've been a crowded com channel among the six or seven of them was now non-existent. He walked by himself along the docks, and towards a security booth. He knew C-Sec kept someone in there during the night shift to have someone keep an eye on the cams to prevent smuggling, theft, or murder. He knew he was done-for the moment the camera saw him, so he walked up to the side of the booth, hoping he could sabotage security without having to render the guard unconscious.

He reached the side of the tower and opened a panel on the side. It was a maintenance panel that allowed engineers to tweak with the machinery should a bug show up in the system. He used his implants to mentally interface with the system. He knew that his hardware shouldn't have trouble infiltrating the system and getting the job done, but it was still a calculated risk. He then thought back to the alien worm within his system. Redirecting the new code into the panel before him, the world around the docks seemed to slow down for a moment as his mind traveled into the system.

* * *

 _ **Connecting...**_

 _ **Checking authorization...**_

 _ **User unre-**_

 _ **User recognized...**_

 _ **Access granted_**_

 _Fredrick blinked. He never felt an experience such as this before. For that single moment, he felt like his mind was no longer attached to his physical form any more. Distantly, he could feel his heart beat and his lungs breath, but it felt slow and diluted. Now, he felt the security system. He could only feel the connections going to the docked ships, the monitors in the tower office, the security cameras, and the ventilation system._

 _He didn't know what to do at this point. He let his mind travel to the security cameras first, only to have his vision explode with a plethora of images and visuals from each individual camera. It was strange seeing so many things at the same time, somehow having eyes across multiple bodies, being in more than one place. The only thing different was that, since time was traveling so slowly for him, that the images almost felt they were just pictures._

 _He then retracted his mind from the camera feeds, and inserted his mind to the connections from the ships, looking at their diagnostics, searching specifically for smuggler ships. He knew these ships not only had the best stealth equipment to date, but were capable of long-distance travel without refiling at every stop. Finally, he found a lonesome, small, Eclipse freight ship. Retracting his mind and returning to the camera feeds, he found the same freight ship and set it to a loop of the last hour, before he arrived at the docks, as well as all the other cameras leading from the tower to the dock._

 _Once again, he retracted his mind, and glanced at the information going to the security tower. He proceeded to rig false information concerning the ship he was about to hijack and unlocked the docking magnets. Satisfied with his work, he began to retrieve his mind from the system altogether._

* * *

 **Citadel Docks**

At first, the world still felt so distant, his vision had yet to return, as well as his other senses. Slowly, he began to feel more than just his heart and lungs, like he was waking up from a deep sleep. As he finally came to his senses, he stumbled for a moment, remembering he still needed to concentrate on standing. For a moment, he stood there and felt himself, brushing his hands over his head, torso, legs, confirming that each were still real and connected.

He glanced around him looking all directions, making sure no one had been watching. In reality, it had happened so quickly that not even a second had passed. Satisfied with his work, he began to stroll back down through the docks, back to the Eclipse freighter, and left the Citadel dock into the Widow Relay.

* * *

 **June 13, 2069**

 **01 hrs/30 min/01 sec Local Time**

 **Minos Wastelands, Arrae System, Erros, [classified]**

Erros, another dead rock that life somehow managed to grow on. It was isolated, covered in volcanoes, and barely a location of interest, making for a perfect site for behind-doors activities. He landed on the dark side of the planet, stealth equipment still engaged, a couple kilometers away from his destination. The rest of the way, he made on foot. As he walked so many memories came rushing back to him, image after image flashed by his eyes as he blinked. He thought back to the days when life was simple, when he was still in his "recruit" stage of life, when it was he and his team against whatever monstrosities lay just on the next planet. Now, he was alone and without anyone to look out for, anyone to cover him, any one to think about when he went home.

Just at the tip of the next hill, he saw a partially subterranean facility, just poking out from the ground. A hanger, as well as several ventilation units lay scattered in a small, round opening with a hanger bay poking out of the middle. If it weren't for the facility, he'd most likely believe that the area was a thresher maw nest. Entering cloak, he made a dash for the nearest ventilation unit. Upon closer observation, each maintenance vent had a hatch for mechanics to access the outside to make repairs. Using his enhanced vision, he saw multiple security devices around the lock and interior to dissuade unwanted guests from entering. Checking some of the panels outside, he found a security check-in terminal. Walking over to the panel, he turned it on before reaching into it with his mind.

* * *

 _ **Connecting...**_

 _ **Checking authri-**_

 _ **User recognized...**_

 _ **Access granted_**_

 _He was starting to get used to the alien software within his body, as it made life so much easier on his own now. At most, he'd have Nolan hack the device before he and his team made his intrusion. Now it was simply him against the Galaxy, as everyone else was taken away from him. Initially, he felt the cameras and lock. He started to think, trying to remember how he broke through security back on the Citadel. He was still adapting, but the security here was probably much weaker than that on the Citadel._

 _Then, he reached forward with his mind to the security cameras. As the images came up, he wasn't surprised by the results. All throughout the base were various Asari commandos, all whom were cleaning up final materials. Unfortunately enough, what looked to be the labs were cleaned of all utensils, equipment, and notes. With further searching, he found the main office, watching as a commando walked in to access it. Knowing his objective, Fredrick turned his attention to the security room, began "flooding" with junk bits, then back to the door before him. He disabled the cameras and unlocked the door, feeling the "access granted" message flow through his mind. With that, Fredrick returned to the real world._

* * *

 **Erros, [classified]**

Fredrick's eyes shot open, and he turned his head to the maintenance hatch. It had swung wide open, and the airlock was waiting to accept him. He stepped in and shut the hatch behind him. Seconds after, the airlock began to pressurize the room around him, injecting air into the vacuum. As the other door unlocked, Fredrick stepped through, into the lab.

First, he injected himself with an overclock stim, entering back into cloak, then making a beeline towards the main office. Corridor after corridor was patrolled by Asari commandos, either on guard or carrying cleaning equipment around. Between brightly lit, camera recorded areas, Fredrick would decloak, gather himself and look around, making sure no one had detected him.

Eventually, he made way to the main office, cloaked as he went in. Fortunately, the Asari commando he saw earlier was still there and even more fortunately, she clumsily left the door open. He walked in hearing her conversation, instantly recognizing Samelthea T'zeros' voice on the other side.

 _I presume everything is nearly complete?_ T'zeros asked.

"Yes, major. We've cleaned up all forensic data, and the Blood Pack remains were dropped off at a thresher maw nest in another system. We've cleaned up just about everything, and we'll be shipping out soon," the commando answered.

 _Not yet, you still have the conversations and reports on that monitor. You'll have to extract all the meta-data concerning each call with Councilor Tevos onto an OSD and destroy it._

"Understood, major," the commando answered as she plugged in an OSD into the side of the monitor. After pressing a few keys and clicking a few files, the screen flashed. She then proceeded to retract the OSD. "There, all the conversations have been withdrawn. I'll finish up and- *glack!*"

The commando never finished her sentence before a particle knife punctured her jugular and blood sprayed across the screen. An unseen force clutched her hand and forcefully plucked the OSD out of her hand. After that, Fredrick's physical form shifted into reality, revealing himself to Samelthea.

"Major T'zeros, I suspected as much. Thank you very much for keeping those files all conveniently on hand. I very much appreciate it," Fredrick started with a voice dripping of both acid and sarcasm. "I was genuinely concerned I might be all out of lose ends."

 _Yes? And what are you proposing, M_ _ü_ _ller? There's nothing you can do, the Galaxy has seen what your kind really is. Do you really think the courts of law will do anything besides wrap this case with layer after layer of red tape?_ T'zeros asked with a look suggesting she was victorious.

"And let law and justice handle this? No. This has become too personal for some lawyer to handle this. This is injustice that can never be repaid or fixed. After what has happened here, I have no intention of letting you go drawing another breath of air the moment I get within firing range. Regardless of how long it takes, regardless of if it's after the next hundred cycles, I'll still hunt you, and I'll still bring retribution down upon you. Count on it," Fredrick said with hostility. All the while, he was looking over the desk's security access. During his rant, he was granted access to "protocol zero," hanger door access, and control over the lights.

 _Don't be so sure you'll kill me before you yourself are reduced to dust,_ T'zeros mocked before the conversation ended. On that note, Fredrick opened valves all over the station, releasing toxic gas on as many exposed Asari commandos as possible, shut all the doors to the outside to prevent any escape, and shut off the lights, making it impossible for those who were still alive to transverse the facility safely.

Fredrick exited the office and began his cleansing sweep around the facility. All around him, Asari were either choking on their liquidated lungs, or were puking their purple blood onto the floor. Their eyes bled, their skin became dry, flaked, and fell off, causing bloody sores to grow all over them. Commandos who were lucky enough to have sealed helmets on at the time still wandered the facility, looking for a way out. Each and every one, Fredrick hunted down. With his particle rifle, he shot the limbs off any opposition, before finishing them off with headshots, causing their heads to become an incinerated pile of shattered bone, blood, brains, flesh, and contorted metal.

As Fredrick shot off each limb, the Asari fell to the floor, clinging on to their stumps in pain, or attempting to crawl away. When he walked up to finish any off, they would look up at him with their night vision, held whatever hand or arm they had left, and fearfully screamed for mercy before their head was vaporized. One by one, the commandos fell until the base was filled with nothing but toxic gas and death.

Fredrick walked to the hanger controls, disengaged the gas, and opened back up the hanger doors. From there, he took one of the commando ships and flew back to the Citadel. He knew this wasn't the end of his revenge. He still wanted more, T'zeros, Tevos, Nazara would all pay with their lives and careers. He would see to it that all of them faced justice for the crimes they committed.

* * *

 **08 hrs/22 min/43 sec**

 **Presidium, Citadel Station**

"I understand the cause of your concern, I'll keep that in mind, Ambassador," Councilor Tevos said. She had been invited by the Volus ambassador that morning to discuss the safety of trade routes.

"*wheeze* Thank you, councilor. You have *wheeze* no idea how much this means to me and my people, *wheeze* we need this protection to maintain productivity within the Galaxy *wheeze*," the Volus thanked her.

"I'm sure it does," Tevos said before a notice showed up on her Omnitool showed up. She glanced at it for a moment before she asked the ambassador, "I'll be on my way and make changes, if you'll excuse me, I've got matters to take care of." As she walked out of the restaurant, she looked at the notice, signifying a message from Major T'zeros. She thought it was probably the major informing her clean-up was completed and they were out of the wood. Her heart nearly stopped the message.

 _T: Councilor Tevos_

 _F: Mjr ST_

 _Topic: Severe Security Issues_

 _Councilor,_

 _I was communicating with the lab when Major Müller infiltrated the base, most likely executed all remaining staff considering the base went dark right after I ended the conversation. He currently carries information concerning the experiments and is most likely already returning to his kind with the evidence._

 _Orders?_

 _T'zeros_

Her mind was racing. What was she to do? After recent events, she couldn't simply have him assassinated, and if he was capable of clearing a base with that many commandos inside on his own, than a simple assassination wasn't going to work. She quickly walked back to the Citadel tower, thinking of possible solutions, every now and then glancing over her shoulder with nervous glances.

* * *

 **09 hrs/34 min/23 sec**

 **Terren Embassy Command Center, Citadel Station**

Fredrick walked into the tower, armor just recently cleaned of Asari blood OSD in hand. He walked up to the commander with the OSD ready to hand off. "I've found what I wanted sir. Vid conversations and status reports, as well as medical scans and notes. We've got everything we need to get a good jab at Tevos."

Burke stared at the OSD with disbelief. "Very well done, Major Müller. I'm honestly surprised you actually managed to get anything out of that loose end. We just might be able to avenge Cobalt just yet."

An officer walked up to the two from the other side of the room and saluted. "Sir, it's the council. They'd like to make a proposal to Major Müller."

The two looked at each other for a few seconds. "Maybe you should come along, commander. This is probably important."

"Perhaps. Though, it is awfully suspicious after not too long after your raid. Perhaps they want to 'apologize,'" Commander Burke said with distrust.

The two made their way to the tower, and rode the elevator up. Fredrick thought to himself how the elevator seemed to be much faster on the _outside_. As they reached the tower, they made their way up the stairs and two the council court. They stepped up to the podium to begin the conversation.

"Thank you very much for arriving on such short notice, Major and Commander. We are very aware you are still recovering after the tragedy from earlier this week," Councilor Deximius started, flicking her mandibles nervously.

"Yes, Major Müller. Given your actions in protection of the Council, Tevos suggested that combined with your record as a soldier on the field would make you the ideal Specter candidate," Councilor Hihol Daelan said, continuing.

Burke and Müller gave each other disgruntled looks. They very well knew that Tevos was desperately attempting to "buy" their silence with a man among the Specters. This was especially apparent to Fredrick, as he thought to himself in frustration. _"Alice was forced to commit a crime she had no control over, unaware of her reality, and driven into a bottomless insanity, and the reality was hidden to the public simply because even we didn't know the extent of the reality. Now Tevos spits on her name one last time by paying me under the table with a rank. How pathetic."_ Fredrick took a step forward and spoke. "I appreciate the offer councilors, but personally _feel_ it would be greatly _dishonorable_ and _inappropriate_ given recent events." With that, he turned and walked out of the chamber, followed by Burke, ending the meeting.

* * *

 **June 17, 2069**

 **13 hrs/45 min/32 sec**

 **Flux Bar, Citadel Station**

Fredrick downed his sixth drink that afternoon. With the amount he had drank, and at that level of concentration, he should've been on the floor with severe alcohol poisoning. Fortunately, his nanites allowed his body to cope with that level quickly, or vent excess toxin through his sweat or vapor from his breath. Regardless of how much he drank, he couldn't remove the sorrow that clouded his mind. Never before had leave felt so empty and emotionless. For the first time in his life, he felt alone and lost. He didn't know if he could truly bring himself to move on at this point.

At this point, a trio of Krogan mercenaries came walking into the club, all talking about some raid. Fredrick glanced at them in dismay, knowing that obviously this sort of thing would fly right under C-Sec. If it wasn't on the Presidium, chances are that one would roughly had a 50-50 chance of getting away with whatever crime they committed on the Citadel.

One of the Krogans, dressed in crimson, noticed his glare. "What are you looking at whelp?"

"Oh, just enjoying the view and my drink," Fredrick answered simply, gesturing towards the bottle in his hand.

The two other Krogan approached him, giving menacing looks. "Yeah, well if you haven't noticed, Aug, your kind isn't exactly welcome around here. Regardless of what those Pyjacks on the council tell you."

Fredrick got off his seat on the bar to face the two. "Knowing your kind, my friends, is this going to end on a friendly note without incident, or is at least one of us going to walk out of this with multiple fractures?" he asked, stretching his arms.

"Strong words for an intoxicated pillar of unrefined iron," one of the oncoming Krogans chuckled.

"Oh believe me, I can hold my alcohol very well," Fredrick countered as he took a defensive stance. The first Krogan lunged forward with a balled fist, only to be blocked by Fredrick, before he locked his arm in his grip, kneed the assailant to the quad, and struck the chest and head with a couple of strong punches, dropping the now unconscious Krogan to the ground. The other one rushed forward with a punch of his own, only for Fredrick to bat the punch aside with his right hand, strike the Krogan's chest with his left hand, and finally bringing an uppercut with his right hand again on the Krogan's jaw, sending the beast into a backflip onto the floor.

The crimson wearing Krogan simply stood and clapped at his feat. "Hehehe! I like your style! I'm surprised you aren't a Krogan."

"I do believe I am partially Krogan, helps with the natural regeneration and dermal armor. Sorry about your friends, but they got in my way," Fredrick answered.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if you were more genetically Krogan than you were machine or whatever your race originally was. I know I should recognize you, but the name is Müller, correct?" the Krogan continued.

"Ja, Fredrick Müller. And what's yours?" he responded, putting out a hand.

"The name's Urdnot Wrex. Regardless of how others see you, you've earned my respect, Terran." Wrex shook Fred's hand vigorously and chuckled.

Fredrick put on his helmet and locked the seals. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should probably leave before C-Sec arrives." With that, he walked out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2: Another Day, Another Year

(A/N): One, two, three, four, what do the Reapers have in store? I dunno, they're a bunch of broken machines, their "logic-based" thinking stopped working a thousand cycles ago. Unfortunately, my progress in computer science isn't helping me to understand either. I know it isn't healthy to produce these at the rate Scott Cawthon puts out another installment of FNaF when I have homework and other shit to be concentrating on, but this shit's all still fresh in my mind, along with how the fuck I'm going to answer the next comp-sci problem and questions concerning my mental health. Maybe it's the satisfaction of seeing a piece that one produces that brings satisfaction to the mind.

Chapter 2: Another Day, Another Year

 _I shouldn't have trusted that filthy whore, Samelthea T'zeros. Now, she's "retired" and is long gone, knowing full well she has my attention. But I'll find her, and I'll tear her limb from limb for everything she's done. But for now, my mind focuses on the greater threat lying in the shadows: Nazara and what could possibly be the four horsemen. Benjamin mentioned that Nazara is one of many destructive entities that come through every unknown period of time and harvest the galaxy of civilization. Until then, I will not stop hunting for clues as to who they are, how others fell to them, and how they can be stopped._

* * *

 **Jan 17, 2080**

 **11 hrs/25 min/02 sec**

 **TMD _Sokol_ mess hall _,_ en route to the Nubian Expanse**

Fredrick took a sip from his drink, before turning his attention back to the military-issue meal before him. Silently, he continued to eat, not even bothering to talk to any of the troops around him. As much as he denied it, he very well knew in his mind that this last decade was the loneliest he had ever been. Not just because it was a decade without Alice, but it was a decade without his team. Each was cut off from him and thrown out to another division to blend in with the rest of the soldiers. Over all the years he had spent with them previously, they were the closest thing he had to genetic family after Andrew.

He looked around him as he thought back to the soldiers under his command now. These were all fresh faces, barely five years past recruitment, significantly less experienced than he was. At most, they had several firefights with pirates and mercenary groups under their belt, but nothing more. Furthermore, these kids simply didn't have the same spark Ivan, Henry, Lauren, Mary, Amory, or even Nolan ever had. They all still had their stock gray and blue armor colors, they had yet to really learn, yet to really grow if they lived as long as he did. These new kids, however, were born with natural biotics. Since having dark matter cores were necessary for using their implants, powering carried battery cells, and venting after biotic use, the newer generations had plenty of dark matter exposure during fetal development.

Hell, had it already been fifty-seven years? This question continued to drift in his head as he disposed of his dishes at the automated dish washer. His nanites and modified genetics had significantly slowed the aging process for him and others from Khonsu, but he when he was training as a doctor and field medic, he still came from an era where the average human life expectancy was around eighty to ninety years of age. Already, the first generation of humans on Khonsu had opted out of getting the implants and nanites and chose to let nature take its course, saying that the new generations should take over. General Sokolov, Dr. Müller, and Dr. Noel were all gone now, leaving only their legacy in the form of the still young Terran Republic. At his current rate of aging, he didn't have an defined expiration date.

He walked to the bridge, looking at all the youthful soldiers walking by. Usually, Fredrick was more of a conversationalist, but most of the conversations felt so one-sided, like playing racquetball instead of tennis. When he talked to other soldiers, it was because he wanted to hear of the fights they've fought, the troubles they've seen, and the adventures they've otherwise had. Because the majority of them were new to the battlefield, it was often the case he would tell battles of decades past.

As he entered the bridge, he went straight for the galaxy map, and took note of how far they were from their destination. Ever since Cobalt's collapse, he had been increasingly sent to mines in various systems surrounding the space Ra system was located in. The Terran Republic was increasing operations towards digging up more artifacts, find those who were responsible for their creation, and perhaps find proper countermeasures to infection. The Terran Court was beginning to suspect that the Protheans' extinction was caused by these ancient monstrosities, whatever they may be, and needed to find proof of the event. Fredrick was in every way devoted to these missions if it meant getting back at Nazara.

Their destination was another frozen wasteland, called Zirnitra. Within their confined space cluster of systems they could visit in the Attican without becoming too disruptive in other parts of alien territory, an artifact recently turned up in the Nubian Expanse. It was already showing the same basic effects of the artifact from Vicchio, and had been confined in a container where it wouldn't have any further effect. Like on Vicchio, Fredrick was sent in to retrieve the artifact with considerable force to prevent it from being stolen via surprise attack. As overkill as it was, he took a dreadnought for the retrieval mission, because he "wasn't making the same mistake again."

He began to communicate over the ship coms. "All units, this is your CO speaking. We are arriving at our destination in less than an hour. I want all of you to finish what you are doing, get suited up, and head down to the hanger area for briefing. I remember doing one of these missions eleven years ago, and it all went to hell, so I expect no room for mistakes. We are to head in and out as quickly as possible, if there are pirates who want that hunk of creepy metal, they can't have it regardless of what it does to them. This is to be brought back to the Ra System for further study, and I hope all of you know what is at stake here. You are to be down in the hanger and ready by 1230 hours. As you were." He proceeded to walk down to the lockers himself to get his own equipment.

* * *

 **12 hrs/28 min/14 sec**

 **TMD _Sokol_ hanger area, shortly arriving at Zirnitra**

He walked about the hanger area making final inspections. He saw the various troops and engineers preparing vehicles, checking weapons, armor, and batteries, and talking with each other with voices of excitement. He remembered his first mission to that barren rock, where he killed Shrimps and those two Thresher Maws. He remembered how once upon a time he was like them, inexperienced, but young, energetic, and full of hope. He didn't want to extinguish their dreams just yet, and wanted to avoid doing so before the mission briefing. The large groups of soldiers began to line up in rows by the dropships as the minutes before arrival became seconds. In total, they were about five dozen.

Leaping atop one of the gunships, Fredrick began to address the crowd. "Alright mutts, listen up! I know the majority of you are still new, and that I'd personally _prefer_ to see to it that most of you runts live long enough to see your actual first firefight. This means if we encounter something that you are in no way prepared to truly combat, you are to follow my orders, _even if_ it means leaving me for death. I'd honestly prefer not to write your families notices that you died to _Shrimp._ Now, I want two dozen to come onto the surface with me, a dozen standing by under the circumstances raiders come into the system for back up and retrieval, and the remaining two dozen are to stay behind at battle stations should the need for a dog fight arise, or they start boarding. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the crowd rang.

"Good. Like I said before, this is to be as fast as _possible_. If any of you read the documents I've brought up to you, the object of our interest is capable of great damage and cannot be lost to criminal hands, or otherwise. The purpose of our presence is to dissuade scum like Blood Pack or Eclipse from getting their grubby hands on that metallic nightmare. You are _not_ to bring the object out of its case, you _are_ to report anyone who shows any signs of infection as remote as they may be, and you _are obliged_ to gun down anyone who is infected beyond the threshold. Do you mutts understand?" Fredrick continued.

"Sir, yes sir!" they rang again.

The void outside the ship began to slow down as they approached Zirnitra. Quickly afterwards, two dozen troops began to file into a few gunships and deployed for the icy nightmare below. The three ships dashed through the thick overcast blocking the view of the mountainous surface below. As Fredrick investigated his weapon, Private Max Hong, a new field medic and demolitionist from the other row spoke to him.

"Do you expect to find trouble, sir?" he asked rather timidly.

"Trust me, child, once you get into the swing of the service, age, and whatever scum lays out in this galaxy, you'll always expect trouble. You'll have doubts the moment briefing ends and there isn't so much as a mention of conflict, you'll instantly get nervous. Verstanden ?"

"I don't know about that last part, but yeah. 'Too good to be true.' Does this mission remind you of any jobs from the past?" Hong asked again.

Fredrick stopped for a few seconds. "Well, for starters, this is giving me the same vibe of my first mission. Hopefully it doesn't even remotely conclude the same way."

"What happened?"

"Got to shoot Shrimp, and then two thresher maws simultaneously. Three of my men were still down in the mine, but I had a scout and sharpshooter with me, so we managed to put them down quickly before too many died."

"Maybe we'll encounter another one?"

"I hope-to-god not. Not while I'm carrying this many kids around with me. Our armor is though, but the nanites can only repair so quickly before the acid manages to find some hole to burn through and enter."

When they finally broke through, they saw a small camp on a flat field, with three mine entrances drilled into the side of the mountain. Down below, workers of various sorts walked about attending their various jobs on the camp. The gunships touched down at the parking area, as the workers had set up landing lights nearby. Fredrick took a sharp intake of breath as he and his men stepped out of the gunship.

"Ah, nostalgia is on the air. I already smell Thresher acid," he spat bitterly towards the end.

"C'mon, major. It couldn't possibly end nearly as badly," Private Hong tried to reassure him.

"Another thing I probably should've mentioned before we left the gunship is that you never, _never_ tempt fate like that. Murphy's Law has it out for men like us at every turn. Just when it begins to bring promise, it burns it all away from you, and has no shame of doing it in front of your very eyes," Fredrick responded solemnly.

His group made their way towards the mine entrance, where the package was being held for them. "Shit, major. From what I hear, you weren't the deeply pessimistic type. What happened?" Hong asked yet again.

"Life happened, private. It strikes when you least expect it," Fredrick. As the mine entrance opened, three miners and two locally posted troops brought the crate out. It was heavily plated in dense metal to prevent the object's harmful effects from leaking out. The third miner, and presumably manager of the mine walked towards Fredrick with a datapad in hand.

"Here you go, major. We found it rather quickly and contained it before anyone became heavily infected. Those who did suffer some of the effects were quickly treated," the man reported.

"Excellent work, you may return to your scheduled work, and keep an eye out for more artifacts," Fredrick said looking over the details concerning the object's finding, treating, and extraction. After glancing over patient conditions, he returned the datapad.

After scanning the crate to ensure the artifact was still inside, the team began to walk away back to the gunships with the crate in tow. "Sir, I didn't expect the operation to be this easy. You sure there would be pirates like you mentioned back in the hanger?" Hong asked. "I've been itching for some action all morning."

"Hong, the reason people have a hard time trusting us is because there was an incident where an minimally protected artifact was stolen and used as a means of causing us harm. Though actually, those who were trusted to handle said artifact were actually helping the mercenaries there to steal it, we still had men on site who were too few to help it. That dreadnought above our heads is a deterrent. Even if they manage to get down to the surface and steal the crate, the planet orbit is contested by the biggest, meanest hunk of metal we can offer."

"How do you know?"

"I was there, private. I was there."

As they got back to the gunships, a tremor rippled through the ground before a Thresher Maw ripped out of the South West quadrant of the base, unleashing its haunting howl. The miners began to panic and scramble. The others were rather horrified of the creature's sudden appearance while Fredrick remained calm as a cat.

"Ah, yes. Nostalgia never comes in quarter packages, at least half. Alright everyone, remain calm, Team A will ship the package back to the _Sokol_ and send down Team C _,_ Team B will help direct the miners and other personnel to safety, I'll personally deal with the critter. Move out!" The soldiers all went their separate directions as Hong and his team dashed off to the miner town to help get the workers to safety, Team A's gunship disappeared into the clouds as it left for the _Sokol,_ and Fredrick brought out his pistol and began to shoot at the critter's swaying head. He continued to shoot the creature before it turned its attention towards him. "Hey! Over here!"

The creature retreated back into the ground, just as Fredrick planned. He then made a mad dash out into an open area with small hills and dips. Just as the Thresher Maw burst out of the ground, Fredrick used his biotics to dash off to the side, away from the reach of its jaws. Fredrick began to taunt the creature, attempting to provoke the creature into unleashing its corrosive payload.

"Come on, that's it you miserable worm. Come at me!" he yelled.

Suddenly, it reared back its head and unleashed a bellowing, echoing howl into the air. Fredrick looked back at it with confusion as it continued to delay attacking. His eyes widened with surprise as the ground began to shake again. This time, two more thresher maws of equal size came bursting out of the ground behind him. The trio of worms now had Fredrick surrounded in a triangle formation.

"Oh, scheisse," he muttered simply.

He quickly dove out of the way as the spot he was previously standing was suddenly engulfed with three blobs of acid, eating the ground away. Without second though, Fredrick made a mad dash for one of the Thresher Maws, rolling to the right as the thing's head came lashing out to take a bite out of him. Returning to his feet, Fredrick turned around and latched on the critter's armor plating as it rose back up again. He climbed onto the back of its neck when it finally reached full height. The worm began to look side to side, increasing speed each time as it attempted to throw him off. His grip was temporarily released before he latched back on, before the spot where he previously was, and a location less than a meter below his feet were consumed by putrid green. The worm he latched onto began to sway and roar with pain. Eventually, he was finally forced off as the creature gave a solid shake, before it was pelted by yet two more blobs of acid. It finally gave one last painful bellow before tumbling backwards towards where Fredrick currently lay. He rolled off to the side just as the partially dissolved monstrosity landed with one last groan before laying there motionlessly.

He got up and dashed to the left as the two remaining worms continuously bombarded him with blob after blob of acid. Suddenly, the second one retracted back into the ground while the other one remained at its current distance. Fredrick kept an eye as the other approached him from underneath and as the one before him launched yet another blob. Executed with impeccable timing, Fredrick performed a backflip as the second worm erupted where he was and as the blob made contact with its head. Whipping out his particle knife, Fredrick latched on to the worm's exterior plating, and continued to ride to the top as it continued to extend out of the ground. Then, he yanked out his knife, climbed the rest of the way, then did a little dance at the top. As expected another blob came flying at him, to which he reached down at what was left of an armor plate, yanked back, and lept off as the blob disintegrated what was left of the head.

As the dead worm slid back into the ground, Fredrick brought out his pistol and walked towards the last Thresher Maw slowly. As per usual, it mindlessly threw another squirt of acid at him, to which he flung it back using his biotics. With a general lack of excitement, he pelted the remaining Thresher Maw's exposed head with multiple rounds before it fell over dead. Off in the distance, the miners cheered him on about his victory over the three beasts. Team C touched down at the landing pad, coming out towards the camp. As the teams began to clean up, and begin their return to the _Sokol,_ Hong came towards him, barely able to contain his excitement.

"Wow, major! That was amazing!"

"Heh, just another day on the job, private. Just another day," Fredrick responded, attempting to not bathe in glory.

"I wish I could've joined though, it seemed like a lot of fun," Hong said with some light disappointment.

Fredrick patted him on the back gave a light grin through his helmet, before his smile faded away. "Well, last long enough, and you very well could make your own place among the Terran Republic Forces." For a moment, Fredrick felt both happy and sad for Private Hong. In more ways than one, Hong reminded Fred much of himself as a younger man. He couldn't help but wonder what Hong would be like had he seen the things he'd seen, done the things he'd done. No doubt by now, the private knew of the horrors that awaited him, and eventually know of Nazara and its clique of monstrous friends. Now that he was under his command, maybe he could save Max from the same fate he had. Maybe Max could learn from his victories, learn from his defeats, learn from his achievements, and learn from his failures. Maybe he could find redemption with Max under his wing.

(P.S.): O.K, enough doom and gloom for a bit, maybe leave off with a happier note. Also, life would honestly be boring with Fredrick alone. Until we reach the year 2183, Wrex, Benezia, Vakarian Sr., Saren, early encounters with Shep, and several other support characters who had little to no importance, they can only do so much as side characters. I thought I'd throw in the protege character to keep Fred company in the mean time. As to whether or not I'll eventually kill him off in the long run, I don't exactly have the stomach to do so. Yet.


	3. Chapter 3: New Friends

(A/N): Well, seeing I just threw my cousin into the mix without so much as asking whether it was ok to use his name, I may as well use him. Whether he's important or just another redshirt, only time will tell. If he acts favorable to the crowd, he lives. If he acts like bullet bait, he's bullet bait. Sorry, Max.

Chapter 3: New Friends

 _I'm surprised Max has been at my side for as long as he has been. When I first noticed him on that mission to Zinrita, I thought he was simply there as an intern, if not another soul for Death to consume. Even if he still has much to learn, he has proven himself to be a reliable asset on the field, and now serves as my Lieutenant. Together, we continued to protect our place in the Galaxy, from the wildlife to pirates, to mercenaries, to my hunt for Nazara. I know he's seen plenty from the Galaxy, but maybe it's time to show him what the grimy underside has to offer. I believe his delayed exposure to the shadows gives him a more hopeful disposition._

* * *

 **Feb 24, 2091**

 **09 hrs/50 min/42 sec Local Time**

 **Unregistered Civilian Transport, en route to the Omega Nebula**

This next job was simple. The stalking eyes of the Republic caught wind of more infected artifacts being sold by several Volus traders on Omega. Bad news was, they had no idea who the trader was, where the trading was being done, or among what party they were trading. The last thing Fredrick wanted was if the buyer got infected. The good news was, Wrex, the Krogan bounty hunter Fredrick met on the Citadel in 2069, and a couple other occasions since, had a job to do concerning the buyers, so all he needed to do was meet up with Wrex and piggy-back on him. Fredrick contacted him, and arranged to meet near the trading floor where they would be entering.

For now, Fredrick deployed his troops using a inconspicuous civilian travel ship via the cargo hold, would be entering through maintenance after docking, and make their way through the sewers to the a pub where they would be meeting Wrex. Together, the group would make their way down to the lower levels of the miserable station to their objective. Before the meeting would commence, Fredrick's team was to sneak in, steal the artifact, and keep it hidden till they could ship it off. After that, they would 3D-print a fake outside shell to which the interior would contain a bomb. With the bomb, they would crash the meeting, and help with Wrex's contract before finally getting the hell out of dodge. A stealth destroyer was waiting on standby in Pylos Nebula, inconspicuously waiting for the signal to come pick them up.

As people walked about the rusty, musty, dank transport ship, walking around the mess hall or sleeping in improvised bunks, Fredrick, Max, and three other nameless soldiers were all one deck lower, keeping to small talk or checking their weapons as they waited. Omega Station was only half an hour away, and they couldn't afford to make any mistakes while they were this far into the Terminus. Max opted for a more close range arsenal, and carried a particle scattershot, and a particle machete usually used for hacking through foliage.

Max spoke to Fredrick to break the silence between them. "You sure this bounty hunter can be trusted? Krogan more often than not hostile towards us. What makes this one so different?"

Over the years, Max had grown, learned, hardened, but did well with Fredrick's oversight. To some extent, Fredrick took to Max's training in the field as a form of therapy, to put the past behind him, and ease his mind. He still had a ways to go, but he was a fast learner. "He is a good several centuries old by now, rapidly approaching the usual age of Krogan elders. The battlefield, the burden that is his dying race, and other horrors he's experienced have humbled him. Unlike most Krogan of his type, he's been forced to open his eyes and look beyond his armored crest and understand his world."

"Yeah, I can see where you are going," Max said with a sigh. He was prepared for how brutal the Galaxy could be, but he wasn't prepared to understand how Fredrick, who was held as a glorious war hero among their people, was shattered, broken, and beaten. Figuratively, the good doctor's white and maroon armor served as a bandage to hide his pain away under a solid, metallic, unmoving faceplate. Every now and then, he would look through the datapad that was the major's journal. With the help of some engineers among his unit, he figured out how to break in, and dig through secret after secret. Eventually, the major found out, and proceeded to explain further, seeing there was no point in hiding his scorched history. While not everything was explained, enough was provided to understand the great man's mind. "What has he been opened up to?"

"He realizes that his people are dying, and that they've become desperate to the point where if they aren't enlisting as yet another mercenary, they're engaging in endless clan wars, beating each other over their irradiated nuclear wasteland of a planet for dominance and the few fertile females that remain," Fredrick explained.

"Do you think the Genophage will ever be cured?" Max asked grimly.

"I hope so, my friend. If Nazara and his death-cult are as real as the infected say they are, we'll need every last race in this galaxy to pitch in to the fight, regardless of differences, prejudices, and senseless hatred of each other." Fredrick almost flinched at his own words towards the end. He was more or less willing to push things to the past, but the effect was temporary, and his hatred of Batarians would also remain.

This was his chance, and Max was not going to waste it. "Are you ready to put her in the past? You know, Noel?"

Fredrick looked at the ground with defeat and huffed a sigh. "I don't know if I ever will, Max. Even after two decades, the pain is still so real."

"I see. Maybe it's a story for another time," Max said, admitting his inability to continue pressing the question.

"Max, for your own sake, promise me something," Fredrick prompted as he pulled his head back up.

"Yes, major?"

"When you find that someone special, _if_ you find that someone special, hold her or him close, don't let go, and do what it takes to keep them safe. When men like us lose that which we hold dear to our normal lives, we rarely ever get it back. I truly hope you don't suffer the same fate I do, Hong."

* * *

 **10 hrs/22 min/15 sec**

 **Omega Lower Docks, Omega Station**

In reality, three things are constant: death, taxes, and the shitholes civilization creates. Regardless of what can be done, poverty can be minimized, but never eradicated. Omega station was the pure example of the Terminus that with enough neglect, unregulated business, corruption, and poor policy in general, basket-cases like these could sprout up with any number of flaws in the system.

As strict as Terran law was, and how some taxes may have seemed "excessive," at least the poor were looked after, children who were at risk of ending up on the street were looked after and raised to be successful, and convicts and criminals of all degrees were conditioned and treated so that after their sentence, they could contribute rather than continue committing crimes. Overall, in the Terran Republic's short history, it had been of all the 1st World Countries back on Earth during the early 21st Century had been the most successful, economically stable, environmentally stable, and productive Human establishment to date. Of course, this was up for debate, considering that it had been a long sixty-eight years since Khonsu had lost contact with Earth, and Earth could either have developed into a flourishing planet like Thessia, or a completely ruined planet like Tuchanka.

As the cargo began to unload, the team quietly slipped by the automated loaders, shifting crates out of the bowls of the ship, as a couple of Batarians in the distance began to refuel and resupply. As the slipped between shadows, the team had a 3D-printer and a reinforced crate with them. Out in a far, dark corner, the team entered a small sewer hatch and closed the door behind them.

"Lovely place, isn't it gents? I think I'll retires here," Fredrick told the troops with sarcasm, earning him a few chuckles. He pulled up a 3D-projection of the complex. "We are currently located here, towards the fringes of the station. As we make our way through the station, we are to make our way down a few levels, and into a pub located over here." On the 3D-Projection, a solid series of lines formed indicating a small route through the sewers. "The path before us is the quickest route to the pub, and the fastest way to get this operation underway. We can't risk taking too much time, even with the schedule we've allotted ourselves. If everything goes to plan, we'll be in and out in no time. Any questions?" Fredrick asked.

The crew remained silent, only giving a shake of their heads.

"Good. Let's go and meet a friend of mine."

The group began their way through the sewers. The canals consisted of the water running down the middle of a trench in the corridor, while there were two, concrete walkways on either side. Occasionally, both sides were bridged by metal grating with rails, allowing people to transverse the area without having to step in the filthy muck. The group had been walking for about twenty-five minutes when they encountered their final obstacle before they reached the pub they were to meet at. It was a sealed door, locked tight in case of flooding down in the sewer, so it didn't leak into the residential area.

"I've got this, guys. This only be a second." Fredrick then reached forward and entered the lock.

* * *

 _ **Scanning Credentials...**_

 _ **Subject Recognized...**_

 _ **Access Granted_**_

 _Fredrick felt the familiar feel of systems becoming his nerves, and the reality that he felt from his body all became distant. He felt around, finding the controls for the lock, successfully finding his mark after what felt like a few seconds of searching. Within the system, he felt the door open. Satisfied with his feat, he proceeded to withdraw._

* * *

As Fredrick pulled out his mind, his mind felt a pang of pain, his body and implants all felt like jello, and he was reeling from pain all over his body. As he grunted with pain, he was sent onto a knee as he tried to recover. Furthermore, his senses seemed diluted, disconnected, and slow to register the world around him. Never before had he felt such pain as severe as this. Max was the first to come to his aid.

"You alright major? What the hell happened?" one soldier asked with shock as he rushed along side.

After about thirty seconds, Fredrick's implants began to reconnect, his vision and other sense began to better respond with clarity, and his limbs were properly responding. "I don't know. That hasn't happened before. I don't understand why now though. I'll have it checked when we leave the station. For now, keep moving."

Eventually, a team reached a set of stairs leading upward. The team climbed them to an unlocked door and entered. As they made their way through the steel corridors, they could gradually hear the sounds of talking, drinking, walking, laughing, and occasional yelling; all the usual signs of a pub. They eventually came though a few back offices and a kitchen before entering the public lobby of the pub. As Fredrick scanned the area, he saw Wrex and another Krogan who had the same clan markings and looked significantly younger. Quickly, the team made their way over and met the two.

Wrex looking as the team approached them and instantly reached out for Fredrick's hand, and smiled. "Fredrick, still running and gunning? I thought you said your kind usually lasts as long as a tenth of Krogan years. You're getting upon the closing ages if my mathematics stand correct. How is it you keep going?"

"Simply put, my job's not done, Wrex. I've got shit to do, and I'm not going to let a degrading body and time drag me down," Fredrick responded with a chuckle of his own before pulling off his helmet.

"Like a true Krogan, a fighter to the end. Anyways, this is Urdnot Dexx, he's from my clan. He's getting into the business, and I'll be giving him a few teaching tips," Wrex continued, pointing a thumb towards the younger Krogan as he got up.

"I've brought a few kids of my own. However, the most outstanding of them all is Lieutenant Max Hong here. He's my right-hand man and I trust him with my life, as he has easily proven himself in the field of battle," Fredrick added, making similar gestures towards Max.

"Pleasure to meet you, Hong. Now shall we get going?" Wrex asked making for the door.

"Indeed. Time's wasting as is. Hopefully, you've received the message concerning our plans?" Fredrick asked, following closely behind.

"So long as it helps me in the long run, it's fine by me. You received the message about the target?" Wrex followed up.

"The Galaxy is full of scum, and we could honestly care less if figures like those died. They are a pure hazard, and nothing more. The fewer of them there are, the happier everyone is," Fredrick answered with a hint of acid.

"Usually, people don't talk about death so casually, Fredrick. Especially in public," Max urged.

"Don't worry, Max. This is Omega, as far as any of these staring bystanders are concerned, death is just another resident on this station. And as for rules of engagement, remember: everyone is an asshole in some regard, you and I included," Fredrick responded in a much calmer tone.

"I didn't peg the Wolf to be the bipolar type," Daxx told Wrex. "Is this natural for Augs?"

The conversation and banter continued for another twenty minutes when they finally reached their destination. Just down the road a couple more blocks was a warehouse complex, complete with a couple of hangers, bunkers, search lights, a tall steel wall, and towers. As according to plan, the team went straight into a small shack one block away and down an alley to avoid prying eyes before opening another hatch straight back into the sewer. The team continued through the sewers, snuck around several unmarked armored guns-for-hire, being sure to avoid setting any of them off just yet. After exiting, the group entered a small work shed in a warehouse, with a multi-pane window that shown the sprawling shelves outside.

"Max, you take Private Warren and start setting charges around the structure, Wrex and Daxx will be getting into position for the meeting, I'll take Private Wilson and Demitri, and look for the artifact. We'll contact you once charges are in place. Remember to keep things quite until the show's begun. Let's go," Fredrick whispered. As soon as he finished, Wrex and Daxx snuck out while Max and Warren disappeared under their cloak.

Fortunately, the Volus weren't smart enough to cover the artifact with protective plating, leaving the artifact to shower unfortunate warehouse workers with its infrared rays, burning their brains if they hung around it for too long. Off in the distance, with his enhanced vision, Fredrick could see Max and the private planting charges all over the main pillars around the complex. Finally, he reached a low down shelf, where the Volus were keeping the artifact. Not that he was the type to hold stigmas or stereotypes, but how their target was down low probably said something about their height. Quickly, he drew out the artifact and scanned it. At the base, it was a triangle pyramid with three pillars sprouting upward from each face. The pillars twirled around each other before meeting a sphere at the top.

At that point, Fredrick carefully dropped it into the metallic crate and sealed it, before going back to work on the 3D-printer. Already, it had begun to fabricate the triangle pyramid, and Fredrick drew his pistol out, going on guard. "How long do we have until it's finished being fabricated?" he asked.

"Two minutes, thirty sir," one of the privates said.

"Good. Keep holding position till it's ready. Then put it back into the artifact's place and put it back onto the shelf. Then, we'll meet with the others and follow Wrex and Daxx into position." Those next couple of minutes kept him on edge. While 3D-printers had certainly developed since the early 21st, they still made some noise during the fabricating process, making it audible within about five meters. Fredrick let out a silent sigh as the fake finished construction. Just then, Max came up behind him.

"All charges are in place sir, what's the next step?" Max asked as he watched the group put away the 3D-printer and brought up the fake artifact.

"Hand me a HE charge, I'm rigging this thing, and I'll synchronize it to me so you don't accidentally detonate the rest of the building at the same time. Let's go." The team got out of the isle as the warehouse workers just came in seconds afterwards to fetch the object. With some light sprinting, the team made it to the rafters above the warehouse entrance. Down below, the could hear the various mercenaries running about, getting the artifact ready for the sale and getting into defensive positions should the meeting be a trap. Just then, the doors slowly creaked open, and a small gang came walking through, led by a Turian in black armor.

The leader of the group, the Turian spoke up, with his mandibles kept tight to the side of his head in reserve. "I presume the artifact is authentic? Because it would be a shame if I had to kill you."

The Volus trader stepped forward to defend himself. "Now now, *wheeze* the artifact is authentic, I *wheeze* can guarantee you, *wheeze* it is rather exquisite and is worth the price. *wheeze*"

"Show me it," the Turain said with anger, flaring his mandibles with emotion.

"Yes, of course *wheeze*." The Volus turned to look back and gestured to a pair of mercenaries holding a crate. "Bring it forth *wheeze* and open it." Two of the mercenaries with the Volus picked up the crate, brought it forward, unlocked it, and opened it, revealing the unknowingly fake artifact to them. As the Turian sent someone to authenticate, Fredrick detonated the charges, sending remains of mercenaries flying, the Volus' suit bursting open, and bellowing fire all about. What remained were chunks of broken armor, torn limbs, various colors of blood puddles, and screaming mercenaries.

While those who remained began to collect themselves, Fredrick, Wrex, and Max all dropped to the ground below, slowing their decent using their biotics, and opened fire at what was left of the black clad Turian and his men as the others picked off a few others. "Good work everyone, back to the sewers!" Fredrick said as they all made their way back to the way they came in. The mercenaries who had been guarding the back area made their way back up to the main body of the warehouse only to be gunned down by Daxx on the way out. Already, the guards of the site were making their way to the warehouse they were in to meet the intruders. However, as Fredrick and the others fully retreated back to the sewers, Max detonated the charges in the warehouse behind them, causing the whole structure to collapse.

"HAHAHA! I know I've said this plenty of times in the past, but I like your style Fredrick. You sure know how to get the job done efficiently. You Max aren't too bad yourself. I see you've learned well from the Wolf," Wrex laughed.

"Well, it's been a pleasure working with you as well, Wrex. Same to you Daxx, just watch where you're shooting next time," Max retorted.

"Says the Aug using a scattershot," Daxx shrugs.

* * *

 **13 hrs/23 min/42 sec**

 **TMSD _Vendetta_ Med Bay, en route to Khonsu**

At the end of the mission, Fredrick called for the _Vendetta_ , waited a couple of hours, then said his goodbyes to Wrex and Daxx before he left Omega. Wrex said they would be on their way to the Citadel, cash in their contract, then take a rest before moving on to their next job. Max couldn't help but sigh with exasperation at the fact that C-Sec had their heads stuck so far up their asses that men like them went unnoticed, either because the rules slowed them down too much or because money was being traded under the desk.

For the last several years, the Terran Republic needed to investigate further the artifacts, Nazara, and its connections. Of anything they picked up resembling the artifact from Vicchio, each was built of an semi-organic composite, and was actually a bunch of artificial "cells" constructed in the form of whatever the artifact was designed to look like. Similar to the worm Fredrick was given, they each contained some variant of the strain, but no two were exactly the same. However, based on the source code all the ancient worms and viruses used, the Republic had developed a countermeasure on their hardware to fend off potential future attacks, but had made no progress otherwise. From use of carbon dating, the lab workers could tell that these artifacts were much older than either the Protheans or the older race that left the pillars on Khonsu.

For now, Fredrick had used his advanced software to simply unlock a door, only for his implants to violently disconnect, then reconnect. He currently sat a medical bed waiting for the diagnostics to finish. The security on the lock was minimal at most, so perhaps the virus was finally damaging his system. Just then, Max and an engineer walked into the room to confront him. Fredrick subsequently stood up in return.

"How bad is it?" Fredrick started.

"Well, it isn't necessarily bad per-say, but we think we've found the source of the problem," Max started as he put a hand through his wavy, ink-black hair. "You see, when you do use the alien worm on your system, all neurological ceases temporarily, even automated functions for smooth muscle stops. During this brief period, your implants do freeze up for a moment so you don't go tumbling to the floor like a ragdoll, fortunately enough. Unfortunately, your nervous system seems to take a pretty nasty hit during this time of complete neurological activity, and suffers from severe strain. Fortunately, your nanties quickly undo any damage done and your implants are reconnected. So far, there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage, but from what the engineer here has told me, he recommends spare use of the worm for fear of future consequences."

"Well, I suppose it really was too good to be true. But, I'm a field medic, not a combat engineer, there's only so much one can do. Did you send that report like I asked?" Fredrick said, putting back on his officer coat.

"Did it the moment I got out of the locker room. I even attended the debriefing while your implants were being scanned. At least high command his happy for now."

"I suppose it is, but now I'm going back to the feeling of hopelessly running in circles again. Will we ever find these bastards, or will they eventually come to us? And if they really have been cutting down generation after generation of civilizations galaxy-wide, do we even have a hope at stopping them?"


	4. Chapter 4: Past, Present, and Future

(A/N): I know that jumping forward too much is bad, but I've got several things in mind to keep up with, and I don't want everyone suffer from crippling boredom from reading some ungodly number of chapters of Fredrick playing Aristotle or Indiana Jones ("it belongs in a lab!"). Plus it gives me a few ideas, so bare with me. This chapter (sort of) slows the pace way down compared to the last several chapters, just so it isn't repeated action sequences. Anyways, don't forget to review and PM me with questions concerning the plot, loopholes, and flaws in general.

Chapter 4: Past, Present, and Future

 _I don't know what I'm doing anymore. We've been digging for the last few decades for an enemy we have no idea is like. At most, we know that hypothetically, they are as described by Cobalt in their final moments, monstrosities, doomsday machines, horsemen of the apocalypse. What brings me the most fear are the words, "They'll come back. They always come back." How long have they harvested life? How many more of them are out there? What could they possibly hope to achieve?_

* * *

 _ **? UNK, &%$#**_

 _ **? hrs/? min/? sec**_

 _ **[classified], [classified]**_

 _"Hey! Wake up!" a voice from the darkness whispered._

 _He slowly shook awake, looking around him. It looked to be what was once an apartment complex, except everything now lay in ruins. The carpet was scorched, blast marks and blood covered the once pristine walls, the tiles were shattered and chipped onto the floor, entire segments of wall were blown away, revealing the steel structure within, and there wasn't an untouched window in sight. Around him was a large group of survivors, men, women, children of all ages and various races, and only a few of them actually carried weapons with them. All their clothes were tattered, burnt, and torn, his own included. Kneeling in front of him was an equally worn, filthy, unshaven man with a dirtied gray coat, and a black beanie._

 _"You still with us?" the man asked again._

 _"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, let me get my gun," the previously sleeping, faceless man responded._

 _"We'll be heading out in a minute, bloodhounds are patrolling the area. Get ready, and we'll be on our way out, hopefully we'll make it to the metro."_

 _"You sure we'll be safe down there? They've got spiders crawling all over down there," faceless man asked again, loading his shotgun. He had barely survived down in the tunnels last time, and wasn't exactly ready to go back down again._

 _"It's that, or stay in these apartments. They're ready to collapse as is, and we're plenty exposed to flyers," the man in they gray coat said._

 _"Alright. What's the plan?" the faceless man asked. For the first time, the faceless man payed attention to his hands. They were normal, natural, organic. He still felt the components in his body, but it felt strange._

 _Oddly, the gray coat man didn't pay attention to his odd behavior, and pulled out a datapad showing a map. "We'll be heading down to the seventh level, a building has toppled over in down there and rests on this apartment complex. We'll make the jump across, head down a few more floors into the stock exchange. From their, under the cover of the buildings on both sides, we'll make a dash across the road, weave our way through the restaurants, and come across the next street over. Down a couple of blocks is an metro entrance. Any issues? I've already told the other guys about the plan."_

 _"Seems awfully risky," the faceless man said listening to the gunshots, flames, and explosions in the distance. "If we are going through open street, and a blood hound just so happens to glance down it, we're as good as dead."_

 _"We can't afford to make too much noise breaking in through the sewers. It's our best shot. Then we'll regroup with Ralph and the others down the line." The gray coat man seemed pretty hard-set on this plan and wasn't going to be talked out of it._

 _As they made their way to the stairwell, the faceless man looked out the window, and instantly recognized the place outside. The burning city, where he witnessed himself commit horrid atrocities against men and women simply trying to survive. Like before, the horizon was outlined by burning buildings, and the sky was choking on thick smoke, blotting out the night sky. He shook the thought out of his head and exited the room. The large group of people began their way from the tenth floor down to the seventh via a still intact stairwell. Just like the rest of the building, it had been once covered in tiles before they were shot off the walls and shattered on the floor. Besides the footsteps they made, the sound of children and women on the verge of breakdown, and the raging battles in the distance, the building was dead quite. Not even the men on guard dared talk to each other. As sneaky Shadows were, their cloaking devices made a distinct hum, along with all the other traits cloaked individuals made._

 _The faceless man than went onto guard, making sure everyone made it from the apartments to the fallen next building without any problems. He remained relatively calm, and looked down at the street below. Just then, he heard a mechanical whirl as well as constant clanking far down below. He couldn't see the source yet, but he held up a hand to signify everyone to stop. He watched patiently as a monstrosity he had witnessed before came into view. In fact, he had seen through the eyes of these creatures. It was the bipedal mechs, and their dog-like bodies. This one walked steadily down the road, glancing back and forth, looking for prey to hack down like a mower to grass. The faceless man watched quietly as it walked off down the street and out of view._

 _"It's gone, keep moving," he said, signaling with a few hand waves. The group continued across they way, and the faceless man followed, sure to check the path behind them. The next building was nothing short of precarious, and hard to transverse as the stairs were severely tilted. Eventually, they began to cross over into the stock exchange. Fortunately, the interior wasn't nearly as exposed, allowing them to pass without anyone keeping guard._

 _Quickly, the faceless man made his way back to the front of the pack, and met with the other armed men, as he walked through the building. What had been once filled with life, full of men and women of various races jamming their pockets unnecessarily fuller by the second, was now a shattered dream. While most of the stone architecture was still unaffected, the place was now decorated with shattered monitors, broken holo-tables, shredded and burnt banners, and distorted corpses._

 _Eventually the group all walked down the escalators down to the first floor and made their way towards the front lobby. As they came to the covered entrance, the faceless man stopped for a second as he looked down both ways of the street. Not only had he been here before, but he had killed a group attempting the same path, when he was a mech. Strangely enough, Alice was no where to be seen._

 _"Coast is clear, let's move!" the man in the gray coat told everyone. "Stay here, cover our backs," the man in the gray coat told the faceless man._

 _"Wait, this is suicide! There is still a pack patrolling the area!" the faceless man attempted to warn him. He knew what happened last time, and very well knew they would all die. However, he was unsure of his own fate, as he recalled no one of his specifications during his last visit. Almost as to prove his point, he heard an explosion rather nearby up the road. No doubt it was his other self preparing for the kill of his crew, as it was being "saved" from another pack of heavily armed survivors._

 _"I'm not going to have us sit here and wait for it to happen, now stay and keep guard for us!" the gray coat man argued. He then began to help guide the large number of survivors down the road._

 _The faceless man took cover behind a pillar, facing towards where "he" would enter. The group was just about half way across the street, when just as scheduled, "he" came rearing around the corner after leaping across the courtyard. It then turned its gaze to them and began to prepare for the swift dash down upon them._

 _"Look out! Blood hound!" the faceless man shouted, beginning to unload round after round from his shotgun down at the blood hound. Just then, after crouching down, it sprinted forward, and dashed down upon them. The others barely had a chance to unload half of their clips before it reached forward, and released a small payload of missiles at those closest to the other side, instantaneously liquidating them._ "No," _the faceless man thought to himself._ "Not again."

 _Just then, it turned its general attention towards where he was, making a dash towards him. The faceless man dashed out of cover as the mech came crashing down upon a cluster of helpless civies, reducing each one to a puddle, torn cloth, and raw, torn flesh._ "You'll pay for every last one of them," _he thought to himself. In the middle of the street, he reloaded and continued to give the others cover has he shot the mech repeatedly, beginning to see its shield falter. It simply took three more ape like swings before it cleansed the whole street of anyone but him._ "Now, it's personal, you bastard."

 _It dashed towards him, only for him to use his enhanced legs and agility to leap over it like he was a bullfighter. He then landed on the back of the beast, reloaded several more times, then emptied out a clip into the back of the machine, shredding armor and several presumably critical components, sending the beast onto its front. With his enhanced strength, he reached down and flipped the mech onto its back and stood on its chest, training his shotgun onto the "head" module._

 _"Eat this, you miserable pile of scrap metal," he said angrily._

 _Just then, the mechanical beast reached up with a shaky arm as if to beg for mercy. Just then, it produced a voice all to familiar. "Fredrick, please. I'm so sorry."_

 _The faceless man pulled the trigger, shredding the head module before he could fully comprehend the voice. Now realizing who the mech "really" was, he dropped the shotgun in disbelief and dropped to his knees as a widower would to a fallen spouse. He sat their, shaking for a bit, taking sad and painful breaths. Just then, he heard mechanical groans from above. Looking up, he saw the most horrifying creature he had ever seen. Out of the smoke crawled out a dreadnought of unbelievable scale, but didn't resemble any ship he had seen before. It was a dark blue, metallic shade, looked as organic as it did artificial, had red lights trimming the edges of its armor plates, and was shaped almost like a squid. Just then, its tentacles opened up to reveal its maw. It released a bellowing screech like an incredibly powerful fog horn. The faceless man cringed with pain, putting his hands to his hears, shutting his eyes and clenching his teeth with terror. Finally, he threw back his head, opened his mouth, and screamed with pain._

Like he was previously, he produced the same painful scream as his eyes shot open.

 **Dec 03, 2098**

 **06 hrs/54 min/59 sec**

 **Apartment 503, Citadel Wards, Citadel Station**

"Fuck," Fredrick uttered as he rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes. He proceeded to the bedroom bathroom, took a leak, then walked to the kitchen to get a protein bar and something to drink. He had a shitty night, and wasn't in the mood for going through the trouble of preparing, or buying breakfast. Moving from the kitchen to the living room with bowl of cheap cereal in one hand and an unwrapped energy bar in the other, he proceeded to walk towards the living room and sit down, turning on the TV to watch the morning news. Once again, the Citadel news ranted on about the Terran Republic's "military presence," and how the public isn't all that much safer with he and his men around.

The unit did keep in mind to remain reserved with their tactics and military approach, or perhaps the negative stigma from the Geth left too strong of an impression. Maybe they were all worried that another unit would go "rogue" like Cobalt did back in the late 60s. Even if they were to have made the claim that they went crazy because the Asari Republics wanted to develop a "countermeasure" to their strength as a people, the Asari would be desperate to bury everything they could. Even if they failed to do so, it still drove everyone's attention away from the real issue at hand: the artifact that fucked their brains in the first place. Besides the Protheans' "disappearance" as well as the extinction of whatever lived around five hundred thousand years ago, there was little to no data on whatever was waiting out there to burn all civilization down the moment it reached its apex.

All that, and his years of playing soldier were finally catching up to him. Sure, there were plenty who had it coming to them, and most certainly deserved being brutally carved up like a dead fish for dinner, but he'd clearly killed quite a few unnecessary bystanders along the way. First and foremost were all those dead women and children back on Shar'Khan. When he was still young, he had no problem walking into their bombed out homes and smashing each one to pieces or hacking them up like free money came out of their body cavities. While pirates and mercenaries had done plenty horrible things themselves, they mostly did so in acts of desperation as a result of poverty, or because the system treated them unfairly as was the case for the Krogan. Regardless, he had a hard time sympathizing with Asari, Salarian, and Turian mercenaries, as all of those were Council races, and most of them clearly had made all sorts of bad choices in life to end up at the speaking end of his rifle. Finally, he had seen enough bodily remains and violence in general at this point in his life to consider it normal and was completely desensitized. Perhaps that was why the other races didn't trust them as soldiers, as troops within the Terran Republic Military rarely resigned once they truly enlisted within the force.

What Fredrick didn't understand about the public was that C-Sec authority was strong in name only, and didn't bear any genuine strength. For every petty criminal that slipped by, five gang leaders slipped away from their grasp without a hitch, and no one except the Specters stood in their way. As for the Terrans, they could've cared less unless it actually concerned the safety of their own, saying that the safety of other people "is their own concern." At most, they would take down dirty trade routes through their sector of Traverse Space, and anyone that even attempted to set up shop anywhere near that sector like they carried the plague, and they could simply infect other planets by crashing into them. Quickly, most criminals learned to keep a wide berth in that corner of the galaxy, or simply get through as quickly as possible, as the alternative risked going through the main body of Citadel Space just to get back to Terminus Territory.

After finishing up his cereal and energy bar, he went back to his bedroom, put on his body-glove and full armor, and made his way for the front door. Ever since Cobalt had been jumped and Benjamin was captured, he quickly became excessively suspicious of everyone around him. He knew his implants were still being tracked, and that the Terran Republic would drag him out of hell the moment they got word he'd somehow gotten the drop on him, it wasn't a risk he was willing to take, and some surprisingly had the nerve to occasionally physically lash out at him. The days he spent drinking after he peaked into Samelthea's activities in the Minos Wastelands were a prime example. It was still shore leave, so he just walked around the Citadel Station, ignoring all the glances he received. At this point, he had done everything he could've to earn public trust, and simply didn't care anymore, not even thought as to what drove their prejudices. Nothing could or would earn their approval of who he was or what he was, but didn't mind it at all.

Perhaps the answers all lay before them, simply hiding in plain sight. The Citadel Station was supposedly built by the Protheans, but who was to say they truly did? And what of the Keepers? They maintained the station so no one else needed to worry if the station's internal functions would suddenly stop, or if something broke, the Keepers would be crawling all over it within the next hours and the damage would disappear. No one bothered to study the things because they would self-destruct if prompted to do so, but that was barely an excuse to avoid investigating them further. Even if they failed to properly capture a specimen, it's not like there would ever be a shortage of the creepy crawlers. If all these components were really cogs in the machine, built by the peeping harvesters from beyond, what purpose does it serve? How does it help them to harvest civilization? Sure, maybe it was because life naturally made it a center of civilization, but not all life was centered on the station, nor was all alien government centered around the station.

During this whole thought process, Fredrick's mind spaced out for long enough to forget his environment for long enough for him to accidentally bump into a walking Turian carrying a few boxes. The Turian gasped in shock at the falling boxes, before growling in frustration.

"Hey! Watch where you are going!" he yelled.

"Sorry, had a lot of matters bothering me, didn't see where I was going." Fredrick got down on his knees to help pick up the fallen boxes. The Turian was wearing wearing heavy gray armor, and his color was a deep red, getting brighter towards his neck with orange clan markings down the center of his face.

"Just get away, metalman! We sure don't need you or your kind on this station. We were doing fine as we were before you scum came out of whatever rock you were hiding under until then. From then till now, things have only gotten worse, thanks to you," the Turian spat.

By no means was Fredrick a thin-skinned individual, but the barrage being launched at him by the Turian before him. Sick of the rant blasting his ears, he stood up, reached down, grabbed the Turian by the neck bone and jerked him up from his fallen pile of boxes, bringing the Turian's face right up to his face plate. "As far as I can tell, the Galaxy was had already gone to hell the moment we came onto the stage. Things may have gotten better or worse, but if it really is our doing, I'd like you to point out a single Goddamn fact that backs it up."

The Turian simply trembled with fear, staring wide-eyed, and limbs simply hanging there, not bothering to resist lest he anger the Wolf further. Most knew of what Fredrick and other Terran soldiers like him were capable of, especially at CQC.

"Good, I'm glad you saw reason. Now, you're probably busy, so I'll let you be on your way. Think before you open your gaping maw next time, because I'm not in the mood for brash opinions like yours. I've still got some shore leave to enjoy." Fredrick simply put him back down and walked on, leaving the scared Turian to pick up his packages. He knew he was probably a bit rough on the kid, but he genuinely would've thought that civilizations that had lasted as long as these had would've learned to work around prejudices by now.


	5. Chapter 5: Enemy Unknown

(A/N): This all still makes sense, right? C'mon, I know school is pressuring and all, but I'd still appreciate any word from you guys saying, "hey Compass, I really thought you did [ ] very well," or even a, "hey Compass, you messed up on the [ ] part. It's [ ]." Basically, I'm still flying dark here. Give me a light? Also, in hindsight, I know I should've paid more attention when using Vicchio repeatedly (it's Vecchio, but then again, no one pays attention to this sort of thing).

Chapter 5: Enemy Unknown

 _It's now been six years since the turn of the century, and progress hasn't changed one goddamn bit. Shit, I'm really getting to that age, aren't I? Of course, I probably still have quite a ways before I can officially call it quits and then find some place to retire. Hell, what even says I get to retire when I still have a case to close? Nazara is still out there, but where? How hasn't it made any more attempts at whatever they need at the Citadel? When will I meet the bastard in person?_

* * *

 **October 08, 2106**

 **15 hrs/23 min/13 sec**

 **TMD** _ **Sokol,**_ **en route to the Ismar Frontier**

Fredrick reached into his locker and pulled out his over-decorated trusty rifle. Even after all those years, he still stuck with the original model; just it was modified to accommodate more modern requirements, such as batteries, attachments, and more efficient energy use. He tried to sooth himself by checking every last function, making sure the batteries still fit, the weapon still fired, and that the safety actually worked. The name "Vecchio" still rang cold in his ears. It brought back bad memories, memories that he wanted to burry, but still haunted him at every turn.

Then Max followed in as he put on his own armor. It's just another day in the field. Eh, Fredrick?" he asked, with a desperate attempt at being cheerful.

Fredrick still couldn't shake how Max hadn't moved on from this stage in his life. Max was persistent, loyal, and just as curious as Fredrick was in the search for Nazara. He could've simply given up on the case and joined another unit, but the facts still remained. Even if Cobalt Squad hadn't been infected, there was still that artifact, and the questions surrounding each one they found afterwards. Their synthetic makeup, the energy each produced, and their hazardous effects were all unique. What wasn't surprising to Fredrick was that Max was starting to feel the effects of the rush, and had lost some of that youthful spark from when he started.

"Perhaps, though the last time I came here, the Salarians told us to come because they found something. This time around, the Salarians told us to go because they lost contact with their own mine. No distress call, no signs of external damage, and all STG teams sent in never responded and were basically jammed the moment they got down there. Hell, even some Asari commandos never made it back." The Salarian STG, even if they were a more espionage-oriented group, was still capable of holding their ground against even a few dozen Krogan. Whatever the teams had encountered down in the Vicchio mine must've been incredibly well trained to take down soldiers like them. And if the Asari commandos never came back, they were in big trouble

"Perhaps word of the Incident somehow got out from between the Asari and us, and thought they could make a little extra cash finding extra artifacts down there? I can't be the only person on board this mission who smells bullshit," Max asked.

"It's incredibly unlikely that any side would willingly dump this information on the public and expect any good from it. Besides, if they did find another artifact, they would've reported it a long time ago."

"Exactly. For all we know, the miners just kept sending 'all clear' messages until the lights went out. They could've at least been more specific with the message, such as when was the last investigation, when was the last resupply, or how no one got suspicious."

"Everyone's got shit to bury. I mean, everyone clearly knows our tech is most definitely not Prothean based, but we still didn't reveal that our tech came from millennia earlier. Same goes with the Asari and their hand behind the Incident, and the Turians and Salarians probably have skeletons in their closet as well."

* * *

 **18 hrs/07 min/45 sec Local Time**

 **500 meters outside the Salarian Mining Camp**

"Private, what do you see?" Max asked over the coms.

 _Nothing. Coast is absolutely clear, no sign of guards or anything. The East gates are wide open and I see a few pieces of trashed equipment, but no personnel, Salarian, Asari, or anything else. It's a fucking ghost town,_ their scout called from an advantageous location.

"Alright, everyone form up and follow me, you too private. We'll go in, make a sweep, and then enter the main building. Look for logs of anything you could tangentially get your hands on, information as to what the hell is going on here. Don't get separated, we'll split up into two groups of six each. We'll need to stay together if we're to have a chance against whatever is down there, but we need to get in and out quickly. Move out!" The dozen men entered the compound, first sweeping through the entrance. Whatever happened, there were a few pieces of broken mining equipment and what looked to be signs of hand-to-hand combat, but no signs of thermal burns, particle holes, acid puddles, or much blood to scan for identification. The mining and loading vehicles were all untouched and most of the external architecture was all in one piece.

"Were the Shrimp this tidy, Fred? Maybe they bumped into a hive of those things and they cleaned the whole camp," Max asked.

"Perhaps, it would so far be a logical description, but the Shrimp wouldn't have made too much progress before the workers would've gotten off a distress signal. Don't get me wrong, from the tests we performed on specimen captured from planets around the Ra System, there were very capable of learning how to use any machinery we exposed them to, given they were pressured into using it. If they were simply directed to get from A to B with very loose control, they'd scrape at the walls or rip through the machinery, thinking that'll somehow let them through. And their learning capabilities weren't just limited to machinery. They worked surprisingly well with puzzles too."

"Hmm, then maybe not. There would be nothing to gain from simply staying quiet. They would've tried to spread, or at least I think they would've."

Everyone entered the main entrance in the garage, and waited for the sterilization cycle to complete. When they entered, it then revealed the horror inside. Panels were ripped from the wall, wires and machinery hung from various holes, pipes were shattered, and dripping water all over the place, and monitors had been tossed around like a fùtbol. Fredrick led one team to sweep the first floor and sub-level one while Max took his team to sweep the second and third floors. Besides the front lobby, all the hallways were poorly lit, and the lights were either flickering, off, or dangling by the wires that powered them.

As Fredrick entered the first hallway, he adjusted the sensitivity range on his ocular implants, allowing sight in the darkness. Each room was just like the last, the bunks, cafeteria, offices, supply rooms, repair rooms, and main generator all had torn machinery, puddles from broken pipes, ripped wires, and a few splatters of blood across the walls. The first strange sighting was a few splats of gray liquid covering the floor in the mess hall area. Getting down on his knees, he used his rifle like a staff, butt to the ground, and scanned the liquid. He blinked when he saw the results: [unidentified synthetic substance]. He scanned it again only to reach the same conclusion. This was strange, as the only other known synthetics were Geth, yet there was no evidence yet proving the Geth had been anywhere near this quadrant of the Galaxy.

"Max, I'm sending you the specifics of some strange 'blood' down here. You found anything like that up there yet?" Fredrick asked over the coms.

 _No, I was just looking over some records in the administrator's office. Looks like they found another infectious object, but it was too big to haul up. After that, there was a record showing the coms going down for a few hours. After that, there appears to be some space within the reports in terms of time. All records from this point onward appear to be almost copy-pasted. 'Systems are normal, no damage to report, continuing to ship as scheduled.' Two weeks later, or one week ago, all reports cease inexplicably. Infection might explain what happened, but where are the miners? The Salarians wouldn't have sent us here had they left, and the infected have yet to show up. I'll have a look at security. I'll contact you back,_ Max answered.

"Good. In the mean time, find out how many recorded personnel were here, last time everyone was accounted for. If we are fighting infected, I want to know just how many there are." Fredrick ended the call and stood up just as an animalistic, yet artificial howl came echoing from the kitchen, followed by the sound of tumbling pots, pans, and utensils as well as a few breaking plates.

"Shit! What was that?" another soldier called out.

"I'm going in, cover me." Fredrick put the rifle right back up against his shoulder, then slowly edged towards the kitchen, turning on his enhanced vision. Through the wall and around a corner, there was a Salarian digging through piles of something. For a moment, Fredrick was relieved there was someone who could give him an idea as to what had happened and dropped guard has he more quickly entered the room. He rounded the corner to get a good look at the Salarian. "Sir, are you alright? What's ha-."

Fredrick didn't even finish his second question before he got a good view of the "Salarian." It was naked, a sickly gray, and covered in wires and a wide assortment of implants. There were cracks in his skin, showing blue diodes poking through, as well as various cords and tubes extending out of its body and around its skin. The ribs were heavily exposed through the Salarian's degraded skin. It was crouching, digging through the remains of a broken refrigerator before pulling its head out and turning its attention to Fredrick. Its dead face hung open as two tubes fed into it from either side, and its eyes were dead black with the exception of pure blue irises in the middle. It stood to full height, turned to him and let out its artificial growl once more, before starting its charge towards him. Fredrick simply tossed the thing against the kitchen wall; knocking some tiles down and shattering the monstrosity to a pile of flesh, gray ooze, shattered bone, and grotesquely contorted Salarian organs. He had operated on Salarians before, and he could definitely confirm that was _not_ what Salarian organs looked like.

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ! That's what happened to the miners?!" a private shouted in disgust.

"Major, have you ever encountered something like this before?" another trooper asked.

"I only know as much as you do, corporal," Fredrick responded with dismay. Fredrick then opened coms with Max again. "Found anything, Max?"

"Sir, I'm looking over the cams right now, you won't believe what we just saw in the records from the last seventy-two hours," Max said with severe discomfort.

"Considering what we just encountered in the kitchen, I don't think I would have any doubts. I just encountered what was left of a Salarian, and by the looks of things, he's not even Salarian any more," Fredrick responded.

"Sir! Company!" a trooper yelled, firing back into the cafeteria.

"Max, get down here, now! We've got hostiles and they've pinned us down!" Fredrick turned off his coms and returned to the front of the kitchen to face the nightmare waiting for them outside. After gaining the residents' attention, more of the same distorted Salarians began to file into the cafeteria through either the doors, or the vents. Each mindlessly swatted the tables out of their way, and continued to shamble towards them like they had just woken up.

"Grenade out!" a trooper said tossing a frag in the middle of the crowd. Quickly afterward, the middle of the group was thrown about like ragdolls, with limbs, blobs of gray liquid, and other remains tumbling to the ground.

Just then, Fredrick heard the grinding of metal behind him, and an even emptier howl than the Salarians were producing. He turned to look to see an even more horrifying monstrosity appear from the vents above the grill. It was a heavily corrupted Asari, except her body was even more contorted as compared to the Salarians. The corpse was now significantly taller, the limbs were grotesquely extended, the fingers and toes had grown into sharp claws, the stomach was partially bloated, and the nose and lips had been dissolved, leaving a skull-like grin.

"Fuck, they're flanking!" Without second thought, Fredrick cleared the cafeteria with a biotic shockwave, sending remains and more Salarians flying around the room, leaving a path to escape. "Go, I don't want to find out what the fuck that thing is capable of," Fredrick ordered as he fired upon the corrupted Asari, backpedaling to keep with is group. Just as they were almost to the exit of the room, the Asari corpse used its biotics to teleport itself forward, and began to rapidly close distance between them. From a point in the middle of the room, it hurled a ball of biotic energy at them, to which Fredrick set up a biotic barrier to deflect.

Just as they exited, there was a small crowd of Salarian walkers waiting outside when they were all leveled from an unseen rocket. Just then, Max and his team joined the fight, clearing a few other remainders. "Major, are you alright?"

"Fine, but hold them off while I clear this corrupted Asari," Fredrick responded turning back to the swiftly closing in opponent. He aimed for the head, and began to unload his rifle until he had to reload. Just then, the Asari sent a shockwave outward sending him tumbling back and dropping his barrier. As he got to his feet and reached for his fallen rifle, the creature lifted him up off his feet into the air. Just as it brought back its sharp talons for the killing blow, Fredrick brought out his particle knife and put it through the side of the creatures' head a few times, sending it dropping to the floor.

"That's the last of them for now, major," a corporal said. "What are your orders?"

"Max, how many Asari commandos came through here?" Fredrick asked. "Could you see in the cams?"

"Only eight of them, in total, there were about one thousand miners at this camp, Fred. How should we approach this?" Max said, pulling up a data pad, scrolling through the number of miners whose vital signs were all at "critical" levels. "I also found where the artifact was being held in the mines," he further explained, pointing to a blip on the map that was the mine layout.

Fredrick sighed. At most, they had killed maybe a hundred of the infected on this base. There was no way he could clear the base with the number of men he had on him right now, and calling for more was probably a bad idea. Fortunately, he had three scouts along with them, which gave him an idea. "Alright Max, you hold the front here with most of the men, I'll take the three scouts with me, and all of your HE charges. We'll head down, detonate the vital structures to this mine, blow the artifact, then get the hell back up here, and we'll all escape together. Understood?"

"That's awfully risky sir. You do know there could still be seven other of those howlers out there, right?"

"Which is why I'm using scouts, this is going to be a hit-and-run. The camp is no longer salvageable and we're scuttling it. We'll get down there, the scouts will use the full extent of their mobility to keep out of those things' hands, plant charges, and we can all escape."

"Understood. Keep in contact, let us know when you're on your way back up." The conversation ended just as they reached the elevator at the first sublevel. Fredrick and the three scouts all got on, detonation packs in hand, and began their long decent into the madness.

"Alright gentlemen, be careful down here. We've got an infectious artifact, down here and if we get close enough to it, ignore all hallucinations brought on by it. Also, chances are, we won't be using the elevator to get backup, so we'll have to climb. Got it?" Fredrick told the scouts.

"Understood major," all three said.

"I'll do my best to make as much noise as I can, keep them all distracted." As the elevator began to near the bottom, the elevator entered an open chasm, lowering them towards a seemingly limitless number of Salarian corpses, walking aimlessly. "Shit, seems like we'll be getting off early."

All four then exited the emergency hatch on the top of the elevator, and climbed onto the catwalks overhead. All four soldiers went their separate ways through the mine to their distinct objectives. Fredrick went straight for the artifact while the three others went to three supports in the mine to collapse the structure. Just as he promised, Fredrick pulled a grenade from his belt, triggered it, then tossed it into the mass, causing another spectacle of flying limbs, raining gray fluid, and angered growls. Just then, the masses turned towards the source of the explosive and began to find a path upward.

Fredrick spent the next fifteen minutes throwing shockwaves, grenades, and warp fields at the roving angry mob. Even the few he did break down, more simply took their place in the chase. Eventually, down in the deep dark pits of the mine, he found several forms where at least three Salarians had been molded into a single glowing, pulsating form with a cannon arm. The main body was like a glowing, beating heart, and served as the weakpoint of the structure. He also encountered at least two forms of an elongated form of corrupted Salarian where the remains of an Asari had been molded onto the front for extra armoring and shields, allowing it to charge even faster than most of the Corrupted. Some of the corrupted Salarians even had the STG armor still clinging to their bodies.

Finally, he reached the chamber with the artifact inside. Fortunately enough, the Salarian miners had installed closing doors while they still remained sane, and he locked them the moment he dashed in, watching the horde close in as the doors shut. Suddenly, a black and white grain covered his vision, and the sounds around him became slightly dampened. The banging on the doors, the dripping from the ceiling, and his very footsteps were all clouded as he approached the next artifact. This next artifact resembled a closed flower bud with most of the inner buds missing, revealing a pulsating blue core.

 _Why do you persist?_ he heard a voice echo out. It was mechanical, but it still felt alive. It carried emotion, weight, and was starting to press down on him like he entered a room with significantly higher gravity. The simple details of the room started to lightly confuse him, but he ignored these strange feelings as he approached the structure. _How do you realize that you thrash pointlessly in a bottomless sea? Your every move slowly drains your strength, you scream but no one hears, you swim but there is no land in sight. When will you learn that there is no option but to submit? When will you learn that the harvest is necessary to the balance within the Galaxy?_

With every other sentence the voice called out, he planted a HE charge on a petal. Was this what the infection process was like? They suffered severe hallucinations till the victim's mentality was broken like a dry twig? If they would succumb so quickly, how did he hold? Then, he answered the voice with his own thoughts.

 _"I am nothing like those before me. I am the immovable object to your indestructible force. I persist, withstand, triumph because I demand it. You've given me your strength, you touched my mind and I touched yours. I know your kind, what you are capable of, your rhetoric, your ideals, and your biology. But in the end, I am not you. I will not bow to your empty cause. I will not secede and watch millions pay for my cowardice. I will sweep you away like dust and sand, because you are empty. I will be your enemy, and I will end you, and those you call your allies, Nazara."_

Suddenly, the gray coloration from his world faded away, the sound became crisp again, and reality returned to its normal state. _"So be it."_

The doors began to cave in partially. He could begin to hear the angered howls from outside growing ever louder. He then heard the scouts call over the coms. _Major, are you still there? We haven't been encountering much resistance, and appear to be running out of the room, not sure where to though. Anyways, we've planted the charges and are making our way back to the elevator._

"Good, start your way up without me. This will take me a while," Fredrick said, as he injected himself with an overclock stim. "I'll get the hell back up there as quickly as possible. Max, how are you holding up?"

 _There hasn't been too much activity up here, just a few stragglers. Charges just got primed on my HUD. I presume you are still on the way?_ Max responded over the coms.

"Yeah, but I've got quite the opposition. It's probably about time to rewrite the records for the 'dumbest thing' I've done during my career anyways," Fredrick said before putting up his nanite shield and dropping the coms. In that moment, the corrupted outside broke through, and began to charge at him. In response, he bioticly charged straight through, knocking back or to the side all opposition. From their he continued to repeatedly jump from opening to opening, weaving through all the corrupted. He then dropped the nanite shield as he lept to the safety of the catwalks above for one more time.

 _Fredrick, this is Max. The scouts just got up here, and we've sent the elevator back down again._

"Thanks, just what I needed. You did record all the security footage of the corrupted attackers, right?"

 _I've been at this for a few decades by now, I know Spec-Ops 101, let's just skip to the part where you escape?_

"Good. Get outside and contact the _Sokol._ I'll be right out." Fredrick continued to dash over the catwalks with the corrupted still trying to catch up in the distance. Just as he returned to the main cave, he saw the elevator peak in, just as he rounded the corner. He lept up onto the rails for the elevator, climbed back in, changed the direction to return to the surface, lept back out, then used his biotics to launch himself upward, using the upward force from the elevator as the reaction force. After he got as far up as he could, he continued to climb the rest of the way up on a maintenance ladder and climbed through the elevator doors. "Max, I'm out. Detonate the charges. I'll have no problem from here," Fredrick ordered once more. The final stretch was a mad dash through onto the first floor. The facility shook, threatening to give way underneath him as the explosions shook the mining camp. He dashed out of the sterilization doors just as the whole main building sank into the now collapsed mine. Fredrick took a few breaths before he joined his comrades in their wait for extraction.

* * *

 **22 hrs/04 min/00 sec**

 **TMD** _ **Sokol,**_ **en route to Khonsu**

 _Shit, that isn't good at all._ Commander Burke shook his head with worry as he watched the recordings of Fredrick's actions down in the mine. _Any idea what those things even are?_ Fredrick finally got cleaned off, switched into his officer uniform, then contacted command to file for his debriefing. Currently, he stood on the bridge and was contacting the commander.

"Probably infected who were exposed even longer than normal, contorting their bodies into… what? Undead?" Fredrick answered. "I only know as much as you do, Commander. Even after this encounter, we don't know much more about Nazara other than he is an egotistical asshole. Except now, we know what those artifacts are fully capable of."

 _Strangely enough, Nazara's thoughts don't show up in your memories, at least when I extracted them from. Even hallucinations would appear. Can you describe what he told you?_ Burke asked.

"Just threats of doom. I gave him a taste of his own medicine in return. Even if they did show up, they don't provide any leads."

 _I see. Were you all checked for signs of infection?_

"We all went through quarantine the moment we returned to the _Sokol._ We're clean. You can see the medical records once we get back."

 _Understood, major. Get some rest._


	6. Chapter 6: Straight Outta Leads

(A/N): I seriously find typing these relaxing. Even with college work, exams, a small cold, and plenty of games I could be playing to unwind, I go straight back to this. Thanks guys, it's nice to see your responses.

Chapter 6: Straight Outta Leads

 _That last mission back to Vecchio put me on edge. Already, it forced me to face some skeletons I had long buried in the darkest corners of the closet. Furthermore, it I saw what the enemy is really capable of. I'm not sure if that is some final form of the infection, or if that is the effect of the artifacts on the dead, but it has brought up rather disturbing matters concerning our future conflicts._

* * *

 **October 9, 2106**

 **13 hrs/06 min/59 sec**

 **Citadel Court Room, Citadel Station**

"Yes, these are most definitely concerning matters," Councilor Tevos said. She sounded most troubled about Fredrick and his team's visual recordings presented by Commander Burke.

Undoubtedly it was because this undead horde had swiftly taken down an Asari Commando unit without too much problem, _and_ converted the commandos' remains to their side. Maybe it was because she knew that even after decades had passed, Fredrick still held that grudge at the back of his mind. The first thing after the council meeting discussing Fredrick's potential Specter candidacy, he immediately sent her a message asking for T'zeros' location, only to be told she had resigned her position and disappeared.

"Indeed. Are you sure this wasn't some Geth offensive? Perhaps the camera feeds had been altered to remove all recording of their presence," Councilor Aluso said. Fredrick was very well aware that of all the alien races, Salarians had the shortest lifespan, but it was simply ridiculous how every decade or two the Salarian councilor had to be replaced.

"No, the security showed no signs of being tampered with, and there was a complete lack of plasma burns, or Geth forces as a matter of fact. Furthermore, the recently discovered artifact was in a recently dug part of the mine. Unless the Geth figured out how to teleport that in, or they dug around the Salarians, put it in an empty cavern for them to find, then collapse their own mine to hide their tracks, the mere thought of Geth presence in this attack is rather far fetched," Fredrick answered.

"Then do you have any clue as to what other faction is responsible for this event?" Councilor Natadus asked, his dual-tones ringing with question.

"We've been researching that for the past several decades, councilors. At most, we know this group is more advanced than either us, or those with Prothean based tech. Their materials are biomechanical, and are incredibly dangerous to be exposed to," Commander Burke answered. Burke then reached for his omnitool and sent the councilors the information they had gathered over the years. "I've compiled all we have into the files I've sent you. Hopefully this answers any other questions you have concerning our operations over these last years."

"Thank you for assistance, Commander. Let us know should you find anything else. This meeting is adjourned." With that, Tevos left her podium.

Fredrick would never forgive Tevos for what she'd done to Cobalt. She felt so secure with the thought she had undone every step of progress he had made to better integrate the Terran Republic into Council society. If further conflict had somehow grown between the two races, he'd have no trouble carrying out the order to take Tevos down. Unfortunately, he had no time to start chasing her, or her dubious past. With everything that had been implied as of his most recent mission, he had significantly bigger fish to fry. If this shadow was as big and powerful as he thought, it would take a united effort to combat this foreign force.

Fredrick and Burke walked down the stairs together back to the tower elevator. "You did send them the visual recordings of the my hallucinations brought on by the new artifact, correct?"

"Yes, I put that with files concerning the mental hazards of infection. I'm aware that this may put some doubt in your mental stability, but they need to know the risks." Burke tapped the elevator console to open the doors.

The two stepped inside the elevator, and Fredrick tapped the console to go back to the Presidium. "This does concern the health of everyone, not just of Augs, Salarians, and Asari. If this is how the Protheans fell, then I have no idea how we'll have a ghost of a chance," Fredrick returned as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

 **May 18, 2121**

 **08 hrs/03 min/24 sec**

 **Locker Room, Terran Embassy, Citadel Station**

Fredrick was gearing up for another day. He had already put on his full gear, but took a few moments on the locker bench to reminisce for a bit. In his right hand, he held Alice's dog tags, a holo-photo of the two together, and a wedding ring he had bought a long time ago and had looped onto the chain. He was going to propose to her when the two reached forty-five.

 _"I can't believe it Alice,"_ he thought. _"I'm going to live to see the big hundred. It's a shame you couldn't live long enough to see yours."_

Fredrick tucked the items into an ammo pocket he reserved specially for these treasures, got up, and then began to walk up to the command tower. When he entered, he approached the new commanding officer of the post, Commander Ash. The balding man turned to greet Fredrick as he approached.

"Major Müller, it's an honor to be your CO," he saluted.

"It's merely a name, sir. No need to pay attention to it," Fredrick saluted in return.

"Mercenaries still piss their pants at night merely thinking about white and maroon armor, and as far as I can tell, you're the physical iteration of Montu, and very well deserve to be promoted," the commander said with admiration. "Anyways, C-Sec just picked up a flesh-trader down in the lower docks of Zakera Ward. A few questions asked, and we found out he was shipping off a few infected, he was brought in by a bounty hunter named Urdnot Wrex. Apparently, he had a contract to fulfill 'alive,' but C-Sec finally caught up just as he was wrapping things up. Unfortunately, his ship escaped Citadel Control before they could get one of their pathetic tracers on. The Batarian isn't loosening his tongue any time soon, but I figured you could help. Get down there and help them out. Just try not to kill the bastard before you get answers out, got it?"

"Understood, sir. I'll be on my way," Fredrick said before saluting and turning out of the room. It'd be nice to see Wrex again, after several years. He'd encountered him on a few occasions after the run to Omega, but they hadn't kept in touch, seeing they were both wrapped up in their own jobs. However, as simple as this assignment may be, it was going to be tough to rip an answer out of a Batarian. They were stubborn little fuckers, and were very capable of resisting torture.

Fredrick entered the C-Sec station after a long elevator ride, taking full advantage of the ride length to think of a good approach to the scenario. He calmly approached the front desk, to ask for directions. "Hello, ma'am. I'm Major Müller from the 42nd Division of the Terran Military. I was told you had a suspect you brought in had information concerning matters we need to know."

The Asari nodded. "Yes, he's currently being held in the questioning block, room 324. He's already been in there for a few hours today, and they are waiting for you."

"Thanks, I won't keep them waiting any longer," Fredrick said waving goodbye. He proceeded to one of the hallways when Wrex and another C-Sec officer exited. They both were on their omnitools and talking to each other.

"There's your payment, sir. Thank you for your assistance with this operation," the officer said, giving Wrex his turn-in reward.

Wrex simply grunted with annoyance. "Gladly. If you'll excuse me, I've got a few calls to make." Wrex turned away when he noticed Fredrick on his way through, causing a smile to bloom across his face. "Ha! Fredrick, I should've known they were bringing in a rabid Varren for interrogation," Wrex greeted, shaking his hand.

"Just another day, get to beat up a pighead, make myself feel better. What will you be doing?" Fredrick responded.

"I've gotta call my employer, tell him I got the job mostly done, but the target got caught up by authorities before I could return. Not that you can escape the grasp this bastard has," Wrex told him before looking both ways for potential observers. "The Shadow Broker has a very short temper, watch where you tread, Fredrick. I'd hate to have to take you down at some point."

"It'll be a good fight, my friend. Anyways, I best had been going. Take care." Fredric began to walk down the hallway towards the interrogation room. It was the deepest room into the building aside from the cellblock, cafeteria, and inmate washrooms. After his walk, he met several officers waiting outside and entering the interrogation room. The highest-ranking officer turned to him, and saluted.

"Major Müller, good to know you've arrived. We've been questioning the suspect all morning, he's hard to break." Fredrick could hear a trill of annoyance on the officer's subharmonics.

"I'll see what I can do, officer," Fredrick responded as he looked over the files of events, who the convict was, and what he had done. The Batarian sitting in that room had a really long track record, and probably wasn't going get out of lockup, regardless of whether or not he gave the answer.

The Turain officer then proceeded to walk to the locked door, punched in the lock code, and then opened the door to allow Fredrick to enter. The room interior resembled any other interrogation room: three normal walls, one wall with a one-way mirror, a ceiling, and a floor. In the middle of the room, the suspect, Dathe Drabsah sat, bound to a chair. Fredrick walked up to the table, threw down the datapad in his hand in front of him, then proceeded to sit down and sighed. "Dathe Drabsah, if you-"

"I'm not telling you shit, Aug," Drabsah spat. This was not a good start. He knew that if he was going to get anything out of the pighead in front of him, he needed to think of a better approach.

"Look, Mr. Darbsah, you've got a lot to be convicted for, and it would be a fucking miracle if you managed to get out of your current situation without penalty. However, that is not the case, and at most I could tell me where that ship was going when you got caught. At most, we could severely reduce the penalty of your sentence, meaning you could be right back out in no time to… do whatever the hell pirates do anyways besides dubious activities for easy money," for now, Fredrick was a little more willing to play good cop if it meant easing out his answer.

"Look, Aug. It doesn't matter how much you or your metal friends are going to kiss my ass just to talk. The guy that shipment was going off to, he means business, and I very well know to keep silent for the big man," Drabsah said again.

The pighead was already prodding him more than was anticipated, and he was rapidly losing patience; he needed to step up the threats. Fredrick got up and began to circle the chair like a carnivorous animal closing in on injured prey. "I don't have a lot of time here, pighead. I've got places to be, and shit to prevent from happening, so if you could spare me the bullshit, and answer my question, we'll be out of here faster."

"What? Your implants no longer telling your seedling of a brain fake shit? I'll say it again in case you missed it: I'm not telling-." Before Drabsah could get out his next diatribe, Fredrick hit him upside the head with the back of his armored hand.

"Shut the fuck up, and answer the goddamn question. I'm almost out of patience." Fredrick was keeping both eyes glued to Drabsah, hoping to maintain the intimidation factor.

"Hey! What the hell! I have rights!" Drabsah yelled, still flinching from the sting.

Fredrick hit him with a light fist this time around. "No you don't, pighead. Criminal scum like you don't deserve rights, and have all reason in the galaxy to be treated like animals for the slaughter. Now focus on the question." Fredrick was really desperate, but kept it under wraps, and to keep the asshole answering.

"Yeah, well you're gonna be in big trouble when the jury finds those fractures. Maybe then, I just might find something to help me slip th-." Once again, another heavy slug from Fredrick's arm interrupted Drabsah. Fredrick had lost all patience, and was on the verge of snapping.

At this point, Fredrick was flexing his fingers in front of Drabsah's hazy view. "You see this arm? It's heavily upgraded from the normal type my species originally evolved with. It's capable of lifting a one thousand five hundred kilos each. That's more than enough to knock a Krogan on his ass cold, and complete overkill if I wanted to punch a hole clean through your head. So, I'll be so generous as to ask one more godddamn time." Fredrick walked behind the chair to disengage the locking mechanism, pulled Drabsah off the chair, and tossed him agains the wall, leaving a solid dent in the metal. Fredrick then walked up, yanked up Drabsah by his shirt collar and asked at the top of his lungs. "WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT SHIPMENT GOING? ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION, OR I WILL START TEARING THINGS OFF, PIGHEAD."

This time around, Drabsah started trembling with fear and pain. "P-please! Please! I'll tell you, but you don't know this guy! Even if you think you can protect me, he'll kill me! He'll stalk me down and kill me! You don't even have a fucking clue as to how far this guy's reach is!"

Fredrick then thought back to his meeting with Wrex earlier that morning, and his mention of the Shadow Broker. "This 'someone' wouldn't happen to be the Shadow Broker, would it? Perhaps I could pay the big man a visit, work-."

"There is no negotiation! He's an animal. A complete an-." Before Drabsah could get another word out, the vent above the interrogation chair broke and fell to the floor.

Fredrick whipped around, pulled out his modified pistol, and trained the sights on the new hole in the ceiling. Activating his advanced vision, he saw a Drell, curled up in the vents, and preparing to strike. The form suddenly dropped a small metal cylinder. "Shit! Grenade!" Fredrick yelled as he initiated his nanite shield. Unexpectedly, the explosive on the floor didn't detonate, and instead started oozing a thick lime green mist into the room. He instantly recognized the substance; he used it to gas those Asari commandos years ago in vengeance.

"Help! *cough cough* Somebody help me! *cough cough cough* *gasp* GAAAAAUUUGHKLUURTLSS!" Drabsah begged as he clawed at the two-way mirror, coughing blots of blood onto it.

Turning back to the vent, the Drell began to crawl away from the scene, prompting Fredrick to open fire, hoping he could at least wound the assailant and render him immobile for retrieval. He was suddenly interrupted by the C-Sec officers just outside.

 _Stop shooting! We can't risk a gas leak throughout the whole station! We've locked down the room, but the lock-down won't work if it loses pressure!_

Turning around once more, Fredrick watched helplessly as his only lead on what could've been the Shadow Broker began to dissolve before his very eyes. Drabsah's skin began to heavily flake and blister, followed by each of his four eyes bleeding profusely, and puking out what could only be recognized as part of his digestive system. Finally, he fell on his back, trying to breath with what was essentially a thick soup of his own body tissue, as his final words came out as nothing more than a garble of wet noises before he finally went slack.

Fredrick's telecom implants rang. _Major, stay where you are, you'll be OK. We need to vent that room before you can exit to prevent endangering anyone else. For now, the room is pressurized, and you won't be able to leave for some time,_ the C-Sec officer outside told him.

Fredrick growled with frustration, tossing the table he put his datapad on against the wall, heavily contorting it on impact, before punching another wall, leaving a outlined dent where his fist landed. Fortunately, his suit was locked automatically to keep the gas out. Even if it wasn't his lungs could easily filter out the toxins and the nanites would have easily repaired any damage to his epidermis, but Drabsah was still dead, and his killer was long gone.

With that, they had no idea where those infected victims were being shipped to, and God knows if it was the Shadow Broker and why he would need or want them. As far as anyone knew, the Shadow Broker was an information broker with every last filthy finger and toe in every filthy pie Galaxy-wide. The then hailed the command center on his telecoms. "Sir, Drabsah's a no-go. I was getting close to getting some answers when an assassin gassed him. I have no idea who the assailant was, and knowing C-Sec's incompetence, we will never know. Waiting for further instructions."


	7. Chapter 7: The Enemy we Face

(A/N): It's good that writing these helps to stimulate myself from the clusterfuck that is College, right? Anyways, it's been a while since I said this, so here it is. I don't own Mass Effect, the title and it's respective props all belong to Bioware and Electronic Arts.

Chapter 7: The Enemy We Face

 _Another day, another year, and another month proceed to float by. We have yet to fully comprehend what are enemy is like, but we know all too well what they are capable of doing. Every stretch of unknown time, they cleanse the Galaxy of civilization, and disappear to let the next generation of life fill the deceased's place, only to fall victim once more. At their disposal lay the ability to infect those they seek to consume into willing servants of their power, to seek and direct them towards pockets of more victims. What puzzles me is why? What to they have to achieve? What is it they seek to prevent?_

* * *

 **Oct 09, 2130**

 **07 hrs/32 min/22 sec**

 **Fredrick's Personal Quarters, Khonsu**

Fredrick washed his newly shaven face off in the sink in front of him, turned off the water, and wiped his face off with a towel. Hanging the towel back up, he turned to the mirror before him and stared at the face that appeared. Like the man before him, he had short black hair combed back, little facial hair, a distinct protruding nose, slightly angled cheeks, and an over-all very sleek face. Unlike his predecessor, he had ocular implants that gave him lime light green eyes rather than the dark brown the original. His chest looked otherwise normal if it weren't for the metallic strands of muscle, tendon, and his arms, which still resembled arms stripped bare of skin and turned to metal and carbon.

"Original," the word spun in his head for a moment, causing him to reminisce his childhood, back on Delta Station. He ignored the thought, took off his trousers, and stepped into the shower. His semi-organic feet made a distinct clanking sound against the tub as he stepped in and turned the valves, allowing hot water to pour over his head. As he was finishing up, he continued to allow the water to soak his body and hair, enjoying the warmth it gave off. Eventually, he reached back to the valves, turned off the water, and dried himself off with a towel.

He then walked to the kitchen, began to boil water for hard-boiled eggs, and put two slices of bread into the toaster, and got a glass of water from the tap. Most of the time, he would simply skip the whole process and go for cereal and an energy bar, but he was feeling well enough this morning to actual take the effort to prepare a more proper meal. He reached for a datapad to scroll through the morning news as he walked to the window to check outside. It was still raining heavily in the capital city, and the sky was a gray haze, only decorated by the early movement of sky-cars taking their drivers to their morning tasks. Eventually, he turned back to the kitchen to get a butterknife, a plate, peanut spread, and a banana for breakfast as the toast and hard-boiled eggs finished.

He just sat down with everything when he heard a ring at the door, prompting him to get up to see who it was. After a good scan, he opened the door and greeted his old squad mate Henry the Dragon with a solemn hug. He really needed a friendly face in this day and age. Like he had, Henry had barely aged a day past his late twenties to his early thirties. He felt so alone, so out of swing with reality, and so disconnected with his own body. Fredrick was raised during a time where Humans only lived to be around eighty-five, and both men were far past that threshold by now.

"Henry, you sonuvabitch, words cannot express how much I miss the rest of the squad," Fredrick greeted him with a few solid pats on his back as the two embraced each other.

"Likewise. Life just isn't the same now that the crew has been dissolved. Rushing around, not so much doing ops for the other races like we used to, and the guys I'm paired up with nowadays just don't have that same charm. Like Amory, as much as that crazed Pyjack was insensitive, he sure as hell knew how to brighten the mood. I mean you've been on the front of research on these shadowy fuckers, haven't you? We really should get back together at some point." Fredrick, of all the times he had contacted Henry over the years hadn't heard the man be so somber since the ambush on Illium.

"Indeed. Come in, sit down, get yourself something to drink, I've got plenty of liquor stored up," Fredrick said, beckoning Henry to come on in. Fredrick sat down and began to hungrily wolf down his breakfast as Henry scanned the cupboards for something good.

Henry found a half finished bottle of scotch, turned to Fredrick, and asked, "You going to finish this, or can I have it?"

"Knock yourself out." Fredrick didn't have the habit of really getting around to properly finishing off a bottle of any sort of alcohol.

Henry turned away from the cupboards, and jerked his head back as he took a heavy swig from the bottle. Henry then sat down in front of Fredrick and sighed. "What have you got planned for today?"

"Head down to high command, see what new task they have for my unit. What about you?" Fredrick answered between bites.

"Same." At this point, because they had no defined idea of the threat they were going up against, they no longer had the same charisma about missions going forward. At most, Fredrick still looked for closure and possible revenge, but even he still showed emotional signs of age despite his young appearances.

Halfway through his breakfast, Fredrick stopped for a moment, and looked up. "Once I'm done with breakfast, I'll head down to HQ, suit up, then meet Admiral Hashimoto, see what he has for me. I presume you'll be doing the same?"

"Yes, seeing as you're almost done, I probably should get dressed myself." Henry hadn't even bothered to get out of his pajamas, so he got up, bottle still in his hand, and went back to the front door. "Wait for me when you're ready, OK?"

"Of course."

* * *

 **08 hrs/15 min/04 sec**

 **Aldrin Space Port Command Tower**

Admiral Hashimoto entered the already bustling command tower, uniform just barely put on with care. The night shift had barely clocked out when the morning shift came rolling in prematurely. He sighed as he stepped off the elevator and to his post by the galaxy map to watch over the recent movements within their territory. A deck officer walked up to him, handing off a datapad with reports from the previous shift. Thanking her, Hashimoto turned back to his own job as the officer exited to clock out.

He took a sip from his cup of coffee, generally pleased by the stability within the region. Terran patrols kept a tight grasp within each system, ensuring pirates had an incredibly difficult time traversing their territory to get from Citadel Space to the Terminus as quickly as possible. Of course, pirates would occasionally attack in an attempt to force them out of the region; the pirate forces were quickly whittled to dust not too long after the first shot was fired. Even if the pirates managed to gather an armada to take them on, the concentrated fire barely pierced the Terran shields and would be lucky if they even got to start on the armor.

"Sir, we have an unscheduled call coming in. We don't recognize the source, given the signal doesn't even show up as anything recorded," a communications officer told the admiral.

He sighed. It was probably a group of hostages pirates have taken, and are threatening to execute them if they don't completely retreat from some system. "Put them through, let's see what they have to say."

The galaxy map faded to give way to a heavily distorted image. It looked humanoid, but the image constantly shifted, wavered, and showed flashes of static. It was a miracle that the voice came through. _"Greetings. I am a representative for my people. We've been watching your activities for a while and are aware of your, predicament."_ The voice was low, gravely, and sounded like it was echoing.

"What is this? Who are you?" the Admiral asked, barely able to hide the fear in his tone.

 _"Don't be afraid, we are simply mutual acquaintances. We believe you want to achieve the same goal we do, and that both of us will benefit from the same goal,"_ the voice continued, this time trying to keep a friendlier tone.

"I'll get a few other officers up here, see if we come to an agreement. What are you proposing?" Hashimoto asked with caution.

 _"I simply want to broker peace between us."_

* * *

 **General Armory, sublevel 04 of Aldrin Space Port**

Fredrick, Henry, as well as several other troops were down in the lockers, suiting up and checking their equipment. Fredrick and Henry, seeing as they were the first to arrive, were fully equipped and waiting for the elevator while everyone else still made adjustments. Just a few minutes prior, the two had been called, told that there was an important call occurring in the command tower, and that all the senior officers were required to be present to discuss.

"They didn't say who it was. Do you think it could be some long-lost Protheans? Maybe they went into hiding, and were saved from whatever took them out?" Henry asked.

"Perhaps, but I'd like to be there myself to render judgment. We may only be Majors, but those are still a lot of kids in that tower. Most of them aren't nearly as old as we are, and they'll need our word on it," Fredrick replied as the two stepped onto the elevator.

"Heh, those kids. I can't believe we're the majors and troops on the field while they're they get to sit back and play commander." Henry continued to chuckle some more.

"Remember, Henry: rank doesn't mean shit, your ability to get the job done as efficiently as possible does." The two had a good laugh as the elevator rapidly began to approach their destination.

"You won't believe how much it pisses off the younger ones when you refer to them as 'kiddo,' or 'lad.' Riles them up," Henry added, still trying to control his laughter.

As the doors opened, Fredrick's laughter quickly died, and the smile upon his face quickly shriveled up as he heard the great voice on the other side talk. He walked, looking to either side, seeing the various officers and troops having stopped for a moment to listen to the newcomer's proposition. His gaze then turned to the holo-table as it displayed the distorted messenger. What made his blood freeze was the voice especially. He recognized it, tone, frequency, vocabulary, and even the rhetoric. How dare he show his face before him; it caused his blood to boil.

 _"This will be beneficial to all of us. Not only will we achieve what we desire, but also you as a species are uplifted above all else. You become the leaders, protectors, the teachers of this possible future,"_ the voice concluded.

"Is that so, Nazara?" Fredrick's voice boomed.

The whole population of the tower turned their gaze upon him, even Henry stared with shock. Alone, Fredrick continued to walk up through the middle of the crowd to confront the voice.

"Over sixty cycles ago, we first met, touched minds, and introduced our very fabric to each other. I didn't understand at the time, but after years of learning and the most recent encounter one decade ago at Vecchio, I now understand who you are. I understand what you are. I understand what the consequences are of being in an alliance with you." he continued to rant.

 _"There is no penalty, there is no harm! This is a mistake! I'm not the enemy!"_ the voice said, shifting to a more defensive position.

"Don't you fucking lie to me, Nazara. You've given me plenty of opportunity to study every facet of you. Your voice, the power you can produce, the way you think, the way you compose your argument. As much as you understand me, I understand you, and I know how to pick you apart." The crowd around him began to shift, began to whisper to each other with concerns and doubts. The commanders began to show anger along with shock, asking the voice "is this true?" and "what are your real intentions?"

The voice's tone suddenly shifted from friendly and defensive to hostile and threatening. _"I suppose there is no more hiding it then. Somehow you disgusting organics managed to find out."_ After that, the voice's image became more refined, sharper, and began to take shape. What the final form was the same ship Fredrick saw in that one nightmare so many years ago. Since then, he had recorded the memory, and kept it for safekeeping. It was the metallic, terrifying, semi-organic squid-ship, and the cracks between plates glowed a hostile red. _"You threaten the existence of all you hold dear, your own people, and your very existence, Fredrick Müller. I suggest you reconsider. You could still possibly survive this conflict. Without us, you are crippled. Without us, you wouldn't be able to travel beyond the barren rock you came from."_

"You've already burned my world to the ground, Nazara. Nothing is going to deter you and your friends' destruction during this cycle. Likewise, nothing will deter you from consuming everything in your path. Your sole purpose is death and destruction," Fredrick's voice was resolute and filled with anger.

Nazara paused for a moment, considering his recent words. _"You've evolved more than we anticipated. Your mind, your form, and biology have become like ours and are almost compatible. Surrender yourself organic, and you could still live on for eternity, with your mind still your own."_

Fredrick didn't even bother to consider the offer of personal salvation. "I'd rather die than betray my own kind. I'd rather disintegrate than continue to serve as another cog in your poorly designed war-machine."

 _"If that is your choice, so be it. If you are willing to risk your people for some petty hopes, than the decision is final. This conversation is over."_

"I'll see to it that all of you rust in hell, even if it means dragging you down with me. Count on it," Fredrick spat. At this point, he stood right at the holo-table, and smashed his finger on the console to end the call. For the first few seconds afterward, the whole room was silent. The various officers were the first to speak after the deafening silence.

Henry walked up behind Fredrick and put a hand on his shoulder. "What the hell was that? Did you really? Back in 2069?"

"I did. At first I didn't realize it, but in that brief moment I made contact with Nazara, I took a small copy of a fragment with me. Undoubtedly, he has also seen my mind, as he may have mentioned. Over the years, pondering this topic, I now know what we face," Fredrick answered. During this confrontation, some of the other officers turned to face the two.

The admiral was the first to speak. "Major Müller, seeing as you have the most first-hand experience with these… 'Harvesters,' what would you recommend be the first course of action?"

"I'm just a Major, sir. However, we should alert the council, and withdraw all our assets from the Citadel. If they really do control the Relays as they may suggest, who knows what other backdoors 'left' from the Protheans they may have. Though it's almost a given, keep advancing what capabilities we have. If we are to even have a remote a chance against them."

* * *

 **11 hrs/31 min/22 sec**

 **Acoustic Café, Delta Square**

To say the day was one step forward, ten steps backwards would've been a severe understatement. In almost cliché manner, the council was stuck in the mindset of complete disbelief concerning the new threat, due to a "lack of evidence." Perhaps it was because Fredrick, the one with the most knowledge concerning them, was rather questionable in character and mental health, and hence the reason anyone would doubt. Just when he thought he was actually making any headway in this upcoming war, all momentum just ceased once more.

"Fuck, back to square one," Henry spat with disappointment, sitting down with his lunch in hand. "We gave them all the evidence we had, we even gave them several recordings of the same thing, from different perspectives. What other 'evidence' could they want?"

"I don't know. What concerns me most about that conversation was how Councilor Tevos acted," Fredrick responded. He was leaning on the table, with his face down in his crossed arms.

"What about her?" Henry asked.

"She had that same nervous look on her face when we approached her with the case concerning the corrupted on Vecchio. She seemed like she was guilty, even if her colleagues didn't recognize it."

"You've gotten over Alice by now, right?" Henry mumbled through his mouth full of sandwich.

"I've buried it for now and I'm now focused on Nazara and his friends. As far as I know, the others have done pretty well to put it in the past, but she still acts like we're treading on a thin line, and we're just fingering some shit she really hope she could keep hidden," Fredrick said pulling his face out.

"We'll from what I can tell, all three of the councilors have something buried. For example, at some point, I had to raid a pirate station. The bastards had managed to slice through STG security and made off with some files. We we're told to retrieve the files, as they contained 'sensitive matters.' Of course, we weren't told what they held, and they told us not to, so our curiosity won in the end. Turns out for years after the Krogan Rebellions, the Salarians had been maintaining the Genophage, making sure that it still takes effect," Henry added after taking a sip from his drink.

"What? Instead of allowing the Krogan to possibly make amends for the past mistakes, they instead further bury them in the dust? What the fuck did they think would come of this? Especially if this went public?" Fredrick asked with extreme disgust.

"Exactly. For such a smart race, they sure are short sighted. After that mission, I basically lost all respect for those lizards. Of course, we were all hush-hush ourselves, but did record those files. Maybe we could use this as a pressure point for the Salarians, tell them to get off their asses, and prepare," Henry suggested between bites.

"No, not when we face such a threat of great magnitude. If we are going to fight together, and not each other when they show up, we have to prove their existence and learn to trust. Holding threats of public humiliation and disgrace is not the way," Fredrick said, straightening up.

Henry put his hands up in defense. "Hey, it's just a suggestion, I'm not proposing that we should do it. Just saying when push comes to shove it's still an option. You are desperate, right?"

Fredrick looked down with hesitation. He spent the last several decades searching for the Harvesters, and now that he's found them, it's another rush: a rush to prepare, a rush to find weaknesses in our own ranks and theirs, a rush to stop them from burning everything to the ground once more. With the surge of thought, Fredrick slacked in his chair and let his head flop backward to look up. "I really should retire after this."

* * *

(P.S.): Yeah, yeah. Basically the moment you've all been waiting for.


	8. Chapter 8: Umbrellas for Rain

(A/N): Yes, that whole diatribe with Nazara was the main reason why I jumped over a few years, and I do apologize if you are curious as to what happened during those years. It'll make for some nice stories to tell the others later on down the road.

Chapter 8: Umbrellas for Rain

 _I don't fear Nazara or his entourage of mechanical beings, but that still doesn't mean the last conversation doesn't mean that the conversation did send waves of panic upon me. The thought that every piece of tech we've achieved could be used as a means of control, turning us into puppets to hunt down the rest of the Galaxy. But now, I fully understand who they are. They are ancient synthetics that harvest civilization, because they see us as disturbing some sort of balance. But why not just burn everything to the ground permanently? What could they possibly achieve in the long run?_

* * *

 **Feb 2, 2134**

 **10 hrs/00 min/39 sec**

 **TMD** _ **Sokol**_ **Medbay, between posts in the Shadow Sea**

"Major, it's just like the last several times. Nothing is different," the soldier complained, as Fredrick scanned him once more.

"You've been within physical contact with a Harvester artifact. I will check a your systems a minimum of two times to make sure everything still works on yours system. We cannot risk infection among the troops." Ever since contact with Nazara, the Terran Court had written into military protocol a series of medical procedures soldiers were to undergo when exposed to infection, if not potentially infections objects.

"Alright, sir. Just perform the scan already," the soldier admitted impatiently.

"Okay, systems are clear… no signs of general brain damage or infection…and you should be good, soldier. Back to your post," Fredrick said, giving his second diagnostics run.

"Yes, sir." With that, the corporal got up, saluted, and walked out of the medbay back to the barracks.

It had been two years since he'd last spoken with Nazara, and life was already going to hell. The Terran Military had heavily withdrawn from Citadel Space, seeing that it was potentially hazardous. Whatever the Harvesters did to invade, they needed something from the Citadel, given the attempt the infected members of Cobalt made decades earlier. Furthermore, the main focus of Fredrick's mission turned back to protecting Prothean dig sites and any artifacts they dug up. If it was anything that could remotely prove the Harvesters enforced the demise of the Protheans, then they could make actual headway in terms of preparation. If they dug up enough evidence, then they could gain public motion. For now, all he could hope for was if everyone could drop their differences for long enough to meet such insurmountable odds.

The main problem Fredrick had in mind was if any of the other leaders, especially the council, was infected. What would the Reapers have them do when they finally arrived? Would they pit them against each other? Use them as tools to seek the remains of this cycle? Or would they have them publicly show their new allegiance, throwing their respective peoples into utter disarray?

The _Sokol_ was one out of many dreadnought-class destroyers in a series of fleets patrolling Terran Space, and served as mobile outposts. Ever since pulling out of the Citadel Station, there were very few military interactions with any of the other races. Undoubtedly, this would generate even further distrust, but if they were to be the leading technologically force against the Harvesters, they had prevent the Harvesters from having any insight to how they worked. They knew that the Citadel Station was one of their assets, and everyone wasn't doing themselves any favors living on it. For all they knew, the Harvesters not only used the Relays and Citadel Station as a back door, but as a means of surveillance, and knew every aspect of biology, technology, culture, and tactics of every race who interacted with each piece.

As of recently, he had recently made a purchase from a group of Volus traders and was waiting for the trade group to show up, bring their package, and make their transaction. They described their package as what was left of a Prothean VI module. Though their language could very well be indecipherable, at least they could have some base material to work with. Unfortunately, the Terran Neural Hub couldn't "download" knowledge directly from a VI interface and would only show up as a static-y blur. As to how they would come to learn the Prothean language was beyond him.

As Fredrick made his way to the lockers to suit up, he scrolled down his datapad, looking over the statistics of the most recent recruits. While it was more of the same glancing over fresh faces and guessing which one death would be taking swings at, as most of them had yet to experience genuine combat. At this point, these guys were mostly temporary troops, and were only along for some small-time training. Since Terrans lived much longer than normal Humans would have, there were those that could essentially be in the military for as long as they wanted to, and recruiting subsequently dropped severely. With the advent of the Harvester threat, the Terran Courts decided to follow the Turian development model and make military training a mandatory part of the learning process. Between the senior year of high-school and the freshman year of college, men and women were required eleven months of military training, whether it be actually on the front lines against pirates, or maintaining the ranks as engineers and medics. Those who did stick around for much longer began to customize their equipment like he did, whether it be decorating armor or modifying equipment functionality to suit longevity, or a more tactical approach.

He walked into the locker room, walked to his locker, opened it up, and pulled out his infamous white and crimson armor. Over the years, he did occasionally re-paint it, as the paint would begin to show signs of wear and tear after almost three years. He didn't mind a few scratches every now and then, but he still like having the majority of the color actually stay on the suit. Most of the time, he didn't bother to take it off, especially after increasingly long firefights or missions that didn't go as exactly planned. Occasionally, he would shower with his armor on, and just let the water rush over, rinsing the dried blood off, like his armor and actual body had melded into a single entity. He still enjoyed the clicking and whirling noises the armor made as it slipped into place around his body.

He exited the locker room putting on his helmet, and watching as the HUD came to life, and began to register his vitals and equipment. He walked over to the elevator down the hallway, tapped the control panel, and watched as the elevator doors slid open. He watched the floor indicator display the floor number as he made his way up to the bridge. The doors slid open and he stepped onto the sprawling bridge. Once again, he made his way up behind Commander Burke. Even after all those years, and all the arguments they've had with each other, he still enjoyed working under his leadership. Of course, Burke had said that Fredrick should have long taken over his position, whereas Fredrick would've argued that he didn't need rank to get the job done.

"All the troops on that last drop have been checked thoroughly I presume?" Burke asked.

"Yes sir, for the last time, I wrote the protocol," Fredrick responded.

"No one doubts your capabilities as the best damn medic we have, and I do apologize if I gave you the impression. However, I do question your capabilities to wisely use resources. Are you sure this trader can be trusted, and that we aren't buying a dupe?" the commander asked, turning and raising an eyebrow.

"If it makes you feel better, I could growl and flash my pistol in his face for safe measure. Maybe that'll cause him to confess any untruths he's got," Fredrick said with a confusing mix of sarcastic and sadist tones.

"Just don't break anything if it is genuine," Burke replied.

"Yes sir," Fredrick answered before returning to the elevator and making his way down to the arms room. Fredrick still preferred a medium range, yet deadly accurate approach to combat, and would favor the standard particle rifle over the scattershot or machine pistol. If they did get close for comfort he did still carry his pistol on his belt, and was very capable of tearing anything within reach to shreds. Occasionally he would pick up a sniper rifle, but it was only to counter-snipe anything that was too far from his normal reach. After picking up all his equipment, as well as switching his normal grenades for gas grenades and stun grenades, he made his way back towards the hanger. He couldn't afford to harm the VI in any way, or this job would be forfeit.

After arriving, there was the usual sight of troops rushing around for various jobs, and fixing equipment. Recently, a unit came back from a derelict trade ship full of various corrupted forms, waiting to ambush any unprepared looters and salvage teams. The team had successfully detonated the ship when they discovered the source of infection. He had just finished checking all the scout teams that had been aboard less than an hour ago. Any minute now, the Volus trader and his ship would be landing, and they would begin the trade. Fredrick did his best to assure that the trade was completely safe, and arrange to meet on friendly terms.

On the far side of the hanger was a cleared area designated towards the trading ship once it arrived. A single squad as ordered was waiting for him, in case the Volus had dubious intentions in mind. Just then, the commander called him via his telecommunication device. _Major, this is Burke. The Volus ship just showed up and is hailing us. I'll put you on their call._

The first thing that Fredrick could hear on the other side was the iconic wheezing of the Volus' respirator. _Greetings Wolf *wheeze*. You may refer to me as Morzov. It is a pleasure *wheeze* to do business with you today *wheeze*. Where may I land my ship? *wheeze*_

"Main hanger area of the dreadnought, the outside is lit up with green beacons, as is the area we've cleared inside. Will you need guided assistance for this?" Fredrick answered.

 _My pilot is very capable of managing. He'll have no problem pulling this off._ The audio then cut out as the call ended. Shortly afterward, the Volus' ship hovered in and landed on the pad before Fredrick and his men. A few minutes later, the Volus along with an armored Turian and Asari in black, and a Quarian all appeared on the loading ramp. The Turian and the Asari both carried a sealed crate, presumably with the VI inside. "Here is the crate, feel free to have a look inside if you need confirmation that it isn't a box full of air."

Fredrick knelt down and scanned the crate using his ocular implants. What appeared inside was a projector, with wires sticking out the back in a tangled mess. No doubt, it was a housing module for the VI, and it used the wires in back to communicate with other systems and to take in power. He investigated the piece of machinery further, ensuring that it was genuine. He scanned one last time for explosives or chemical agents, and found none. Satisfied with the contents, he stood up, pulled out his omnitool and performed the monetary transaction. "There is your payment as promised. I've also thrown in a little extra for your silence."

The Volus pulled up his own omnitool, and looked at his account with glowing eyes. "*wheeze* Thank you, Wolf. I hope we can do business again really soon. *wheeze* I hope you don't mind if I perform repairs before I leave?"

"Go ahead," Fredrick responded. Just as the group turned back into the ship, the Quarian exited and began to pull off a panel on one of the engines and toyed with the wiring. Fredrick, intrigued by the young man, walked over and began to talk with him. As he approached, the Quarian jumped with fright.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, major. I didn't see you there," the Quarian started.

"It's fine. On your pilgrimage, I presume?" Fredrick asked. He hadn't talked much to Quarians, and almost felt embarrassed for it. They weren't often seen that much in the Citadel public and he didn't see them nearly as much as he snuck around the shadows of the Terminus during spec ops. Occasionally, they'd come to Khonsu during said pilgrimages, and would mostly return to the Flotilla after they had done what they wanted.

"Yeah, I was hoping to work up to buying something nice to bring back. My boss is nice, even if the other guys aren't exactly the most friendly. You know other Quarians?" the Quarian responded.

"Not really. They've come often to Khonsu, and their services during their pilgrimages are appreciated. We always try to provide something generous for them to bring back. If you wanted, I could assist, give at least something for you to bring back." Fredrick offered.

"You- you'd do that?" the Quarian asked.

"It's a shame your people have to live on century old ships without a proper dock to repair them on, and that the majority of your current culture is built on the need for survival. If anything, it does slightly harken back to my own childhood. I'm a major within the Terran military, and a famous one at that, so I do carry some weight among my superiors. I could probably get you one of the retired models of dreadnoughts to bring back," Fredrick said with a smile. "Oh, what an ass I am. I forgot to ask for your name."

"Oh, it's Luf'Zorah nar Rayya. Pleasure to meet you, Major Müller," Luf answered, sticking out a hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Luf'Zorah, and it's just Fredrick if you don't mind. I'll give you my omnitool information, so I'll let you know when I ship off a used dreadnought to the Flotilla," Fredrick said, shaking Luf's hand and pulling out his omnitool.

"Thanks, if you'll excuse me, I should probably get back to work. See you around?" Luf asked turning back to the engine he was working on.

"Probably. I travel often. I just might," Fredrick said, walking away. He, along with his squad carrying the VI to the onboard lab, and were half way across the hanger when Fredrick called Burke. "Sir, do we still have unused dreadnoughts back on Khonsu?"

 _Yeah, we mostly keep them around for weapon testing and spare parts. Why?_ Burke's voice answered.

"I encountered a Quarian among the trader group on his pilgrimage. Thought that if everyone's going to be fighting the Harvesters, better to spread around the firepower. Even if it is a tad bit outdated," Fredrick explained.

 _Hmm, that's not a bad idea. I'll let the admiral know back on Khonsu. In the mean time, I presume you've got the VI intact?_

"Yeah, we're carrying it to the laboratory, and I've already checked for explosives or if it's a fake. You going to be down there?"

 _Of course, I'm on my way now. Have the traders left yet?_

"They're doing repairs and maintenance. They'll be away shortly. Any other questions, sir?"

 _That's all for now, I'll see you in the lab._ The call ended just as the squad reached the hanger entrance doors.

They walked down the hallway, and then entered the elevator to get one floor below them. Each dreadnought was designed to be self-sufficient in terms of manufacturing, research, food production, and medical supplements under the circumstances that the dreadnought was stranded, or that the Terran Republic fell under attack, and was unable to supply the unit with supplies. After exiting the elevator, the squad took two rights, and finally continued to walk towards the front of the ship before entering the lab. All entrances to the body of the lab had a sterilization chamber, before opening into the main body of the big, white, pristine walls of the laboratory. The troops carried the crate to the center of the room among all the other researchers before opening the crate and pulling the projector out gingerly. They were just laying out the machine when Burke entered from the other side.

"Does it still work, Müller?" he asked as he approached from behind.

"I hope it does," Fredrick answered as he watched several lab technicians plug in various outlets into the hunk of ancient metal.

The technicians made multiple careful adjustments to ensure the machine wouldn't burst into flame upon activation, or if it was hostile, it was isolated. When they finished, one of the lab workers turned to the two officers. "Sir, it's ready for further investigation."

"Good, turn it on," the commander responded.

The technician looked at his datapad, pressed a few keys, and suddenly, the lab lights flickered as energy was directed towards the VI. What was left of the image began to flicker to life, like an old movie projector. At first, any audio it put out was a blurred mumble before turning into a more refined, crisp dialect which no one in the room could understand.

Fredrick couldn't help but smile like a child on Christmas morning. "Well, it still works!" he exclaimed with excitement.

"And that makes twice I've had to apologize to you this morning. Good work, major. We could very well have our evidence yet. I suppose the eggheads will see if it still works, and it hasn't been converted or anything. In the mean time, find someone who can translate this for us, or at least more information concerning their language. If we're lucky, we'll have this done by a decade or two," the commander said before turning to return to the bridge. "You know where to find me, Müller. Once you're done here, come up to the bridge, and we'll discuss our next move."

Fredrick watched as the commander disappeared into the sterilization chamber, and the doors close behind him. He then turned his attention back to the VI before him. Whether or not it would prove to be what they were looking for, whether it is a voice standing for the Harvesters' existence, or a testament to their destructive power had yet to be seen. All Fredrick could do at that point was fight, search, and hope that the rest of the Galaxy would be willing to face the truth of the recurring storm.


	9. Chapter 9: Black Panthers

(A/N): Was taking some time to readjust chapters 7-10, make sure they were in better context, and a tad bit less cliché. Also, I think I'll just drop whatever the predecessor to thermal clips was in ME1, I understand the science, but I still fail to understand the logic.

Chapter 9: Black Panthers

 _Fortunately, my life was much more interesting beyond digging, protecting dig sites around the Galaxy, or trading for artifacts from different vendors. As part of the Terran Military, I still had my obligations towards defending our territory, and assisting with law enforcement. Most notably, we would pick off slave ships heading for the Terminus from Citadel Space, carrying unsuspecting civilians to their new lives in chains far from home. At our backs was the unit Amory was transferred to after the Incident: the Black Panthers. Composed of the most suicidal pilots we had to offer._

* * *

 **Jan 21, 2139**

 **19 hrs/12 min/30 sec Local Time**

 **Argos Rho, Hydra System**

 **Amory POV**

 _Phoenix, this is Mammoth, we've got Major Müller in tow, his platoon, and his informant all ready for deployment. We're coming into position right now._

"I've got eyes on you, and your wingmen, Mammoth. Has the informant given any information concerning our target? And can he be trusted?" Amory asked.

 _Wrex says he's just after the ringleader, but he's given us a pretty good idea of what we're up against. His target is a Pighead slave trader, and occasionally dwells in the black market. He usually carries a small entourage of patrol ships to guard his envoy. Overall, we're looking at about three ships during this run, and about a dozen active patrollers. Oh, and before I forget, yes, I trust Wrex. We've done a lot of shit together, and I can certainly dive into combat knowing he won't drop the ball,_ _unlike some people._ Fredrick answered with a small tone of annoyance towards the end.

"Look, you still survived, right? And you've been through worse hells than that 'standoff' back in the Exodus Cluster," Amory defended himself.

 _I don't care if those men received posthumous rewards for their actions; you still failed to get back in time._

 _They died a good death, that's all that matters,_ a gravely voice said in the background.

"Urdnot Wrex, I presume?" Amory asked.

 _Yes, that is. You ready up there?_

"Any time I'm not? I thought you'd remember," Amory sarcastically pouted. Just then, his scanners lit up, showing ships entering the system. "Sir, we've got unidentified on the radar."

 _Now it's my term to question your memory. Just drop the rank, we're still friends, right?_ Fredrick asked.

"I'm checking their IFF signals, looks like they've been scrubbed. Shadow-1, see anything?" Amory announced, looking over initial scans of the incoming ships.

 _This is Shadow-1, markings and ship design match records from C-Sec. Permission to engage confirmed, Shadow-Leader. Repeat, permission granted._

 _You heard him, Amory. Get to work._

"Alright! Let's bag ourselves some pirates. Shadow-1 and Shadow-2 will tag their engines; Shadow-3 and I will deal with those flyers; Fredrick and his men will get aboard, deploy their jammers, and wipe all opposition. Move out." After that, Amory went into a nosedive, and dusted off some a couple of the escorts surrounding the ship before pulling up. He banked hard to the right to swing around the long way and surprise a few additional ships as they left their defensive positions. "That's three so far. Fredrick, are you in?"

 _We're in, jammers are active, and we are beginning to sweep the deck. Good hunting out there,_ Fredrick responded, shots ringing in the background.

 _This is Shadow-2; I can't shake this guy!_

"Hold on, I've got your six." Amory pulled up behind and gunned down the assailing ship, allowing the bomber to continue. "I've got it. Have you got those engines crippled?"

 _Shit! They've got anti-air! I-_ Shadow-1 disappeared into a ball of flame, slamming into the side of one of the ships.

 _What the hell is going on out there, Amory?_ Fredrick asked with concern.

"Just anti-air, nothing I can't handle." With another run, Amory whittled down the guns to shreds before turning his attention back to the defenders. As he came behind Shadow-3, he shot down another one of the ships pursuing him. "How are you holding up?"

 _My second engine is damaged, but I think I can still hold on,_ Shadow-3 responded, gunning down another enemy fighter.

"Good, keep putting pressure on them," Amory encouraged as he shot the other fighter pursuing Shadow-3.

 _Sir, the hostile ships have been disabled. Repeat, hostile ships have been disabled,_ Shadow-2 called over the coms, before releasing barrage of missiles upon three defending fighters. _I'm still going to need help with a few of these AA cannons._

"Shadow-3, see what you can do to help chip those down," Amory ordered.

 _I'm on it. Mind if you two could cover me?_ The three ships swooped down whittling what was left of the ships' defensive mechanisms. When all three pulled up, Shadow-3's engines were smoking heavily. _Aw, crap. I can't hold on any longer, I'll be making an emergency landing in the enemy hanger._

"Go ahead, we'll be dealing with the last couple of hostiles out here. For now, get to safety." Amory flew off while Shadow-3 came to a screeching halt in a pirate crew hanger as flames began to engulf his fighter.

* * *

 **Fredrick POV**

 _That's three so far. Fredrick, are you in?_

"We're in, the jammers are active, and we are beginning to sweep the deck. Good hunting out there." The gunship landed in the hanger bay, and the pilot just announced that he had activated the interruptive wave emitter, making sure the pirates wouldn't be calling for help.

The ramp lowered before the two, allowing the two warriors to tumble out and lay waste to the panicked pirates. The two grizzled veterans alone were to clear the top deck, while the other squads were to clear the middle and lower decks, before meeting back up in the slave lockers, and call for the _Persistence_ to deliver the captives back at the Citadel.

The two friends rushed up the stairs to the second level of the hanger area, clearing all opposition the moment it appeared. Wrex and Fredrick's fighting styles had the same aggressive, up-front approach, causing one's actions to be in-sync with the others. If it weren't for the fact there were two other slaver ships passing through, they could've easily mopped the floor with every pirate aboard that ship on their own.

The two entered the hallway crossing over to the front of the ship, where the barracks were. A few pirates, still mostly asleep after their rude awakening, walked out into the hallway only to get cut down by either Fredrick's gunfire or Wrex's. Suddenly, an impact shook the whole ship, sending the two off their balance. As the two got up, Fredrick reached for his telecom. "What the hell is going on out there, Amory?" he asked. He couldn't afford to have this mission go to hell already.

 _Just anti-air, nothing I can't handle,_ Amory answered with an annoyed grunt.

Great, the pirates came more equipped than anticipated. Not that he had any doubt for Amory's ability to stay alive, but he didn't want to go through the trouble of having to fish him out of space debris at the end of the day. After reaching the end of the quarters, he was about to turn left when he encountered an MG placement.

"Shit, the Pyjacks finally got smart," Wrex cursed.

"Just a moment, get in front of me and switch to your assault rifle," Fredrick turned around, got behind Wrex, then put his hand on Wrex's shoulder pad. From his body came a wave of nanites, coating the two completely before walking into the open. Wrex and Fredrick walked forward, Wrex firing on the pirates at the gun as he laughed with sadistic satisfaction and Fredrick maintaining the nanite shield.

"HAHAHA! You shouldn't have gotten out of bed, you miserable sluts!" Wrex taunted as all opposition attempted to flee.

Just as Fredrick disabled his nanite shield and the two reloaded their weapons, a dual-toned voice sounded over the intercom. _"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you aren't getting past me, Wolf!"_

"You think you could still turn in the contract if we both beat up his corpse?" Fredrick asked.

"I don't see any reason not to. You see any pipes laying around?" Wrex returned. As the two continued their way to the bridge, they noticed a repair shed, and peaked, finding plenty of scrap metal, repair tools, and other equipment for maintenance. The two continued to make their way to the bridge, only to find it sealed tight. Once again, the Turian's voice boomed over the intercom.

 _"Oh no! The big bad Wolf can't get through the locked door! If it weren't for the fact men are a pain to hire nowadays, I would've vented the whole ship by now,"_ the dual-toned annoyance yelled.

Fredrick rolled his eyes, shot the nearby security cameras, and pulled out a spare HE charge from his. Slapping it onto the door then turned the corner, and preparing to detonate, he uttered to himself, "you obviously didn't know about the part where the Wolf blows the house down."

Detonating the door, Fredrick threw in a stun grenade, then entered the moment the grenade popped, confident that none of the pirates on the bridge were remotely suspecting such a welcome. Followed shortly by Wrex, the two gunned down all except the captain of the ship. After making sure all the others were dead, the two returned to the repair shed, and ripped two pieces of water piping from the wall. Making their way back to the bridge, the lonely Turian was attempting to crawl to a medkit on the wall.

Gently shoving the Turian away from the wall, Fredrick asked Wrex as he poked at the cowering pirate leader, "So, who is he, really?"

"Kaeso Sabeso, why do you ask?" Wrex answered.

"Right, _that_ asshole!" Fredrick exclaimed taking the first swing. He'd never met the Turian personally and mostly stood as just a name on his memory. Kaeso had always been a thorn in his side, and he was finally relieved the bastard was at his mercy. Wrex quickly joined in, resulting in the two taking repeated swings at Kaeso like happy little children at a birthday party, attempting to hit a piñata. As the two continued, the blue puddles of Turian blood grew around the room.

When Kaeso was finally nothing more than a twisted pile of broken plates, and dead flesh, the two exited and made their way for the other side of the ship. Just as they crossed the hanger, one of Amory's fellow fighters made an emergency landing in the hanger. "Is everything still alright out there?" Fredrick asked, more concerned than the last time.

 _Shadow-3 was heavily damaged. Did he make it?_ Amory returned.

 _I survived the crash, captain. I'm getting out now._ The pilot slowly made his way out of the cockpit, slowly revealed by the cloud of smoke.

"Any other problems out there?" Fredrick asked Amory.

* * *

 _Any other problems out there?_

"Just cleared the last bit of resistance. Are you securing the slaves?"

 _Yeah, just call the_ Persistence _and tell them we are almost ready for pickup. We'll be done shortly._

"Understood," Amory answered before switching frequencies. " _Persistence,_ this is Phoenix. We've stopped the shipment and we are ready for pickup, over."

 _Copy that, on our way through the relay to recover. Hold tight in case more trouble comes. We'll be there in twenty minutes._

"Will-do. Shadow-2, land and save on fuel. This will be a while." The two entered the front-most ship and landed right next to Shadow-3's smoldering mess of a fighter. Getting out, he was first greeted by Wrex and Fredrick.

"Fredrick," Amory greeted with a grin as he pulled off his bright red helmet. "Still making friends, I see?" If Amory were to be honest, even with all of his implants, he still found Wrex to be very intimidating. He was now paying attention to what looked like blue coolant coating the two's lower armor components, and arms.

"You know how life is, it's a big Galaxy, and I'll take all the allies I can get. We've had our moments together, where I save his ass, and he saves mine," Fredrick tried to easy Amory.

"Which reminds me, when were you going to tell me about your crash in the Exodus Cluster?" Wrex asked.

"When his ass isn't hurting about it so much. It was only a couple of months ago, give him time," Amory said with a nervous chuckle and a scratch to the back of his head.

"At least you didn't blow up the ship with me aboard this time," Fredrick answered with an admitting forgiveness tone.

The three continued to have a good laugh as they waited for the _Persistence_ to arrive.


	10. Chapter 10: Homesick

(A/N): Made a few very minor changes to the beginnings of Chapters 18 and 23, but other than that, school happened. Oh, and the presidential debates, but that gives me inexhaustible rage attacks. I still don't own Mass Effect. I spent my money instead on junk food instead.

Chapter 10: Homesick

 _Working with the Prothean VI is more difficult than anticipated. It was already in a very decayed state, and we have yet to find a proper means of deciphering any of their dead tongue. We've dug through much of our own system, and we've been heavily digging through the finds of other races. Trades, dig site history, archeologists, no one really has much understanding of their language, unfortunately._

* * *

 **Oct 19, 2148**

 **09 hrs/12 min/07 sec**

 **Khonsu, Aldrin Space port, Dock 04B, holding the** _ **Persistence**_

"Major Müller, hopefully your shore leave went well?" Burke greeted as Fredrick reached the gate onto the _Persistence._

"Like usual sir, what's our next assignment?" Fredrick answered.

"I decided to make another trade with the Quarians, for some bits of Prothean data caches. We'll be exchanging another outdated dreadnought model for them to add to their Flotilla. Sorry you didn't get the word, I was busy overseeing some repairs and didn't get around to sending you a message," the Commander replied to Fredrick's question as the two walked through the gate.

"I just hope they don't get the wrong idea, and impulsively charge into the Veil with those things. I presume there'll be another skeleton crew onboard the dreadnought until it is moved into Quarian hands?" Fredrick greatly sympathized with the Quarian people, having been exiled by a war sparked by irrational fear of what they had made. He also felt that the council races treated them unfairly by preventing them from colonizing otherwise hospitable worlds, as they would've been halfway through the adaptation process by now.

"They're smart and resourceful, you know that. They recognize when they are outnumbered, and aren't going to stare too long at the hornets' nest." The two entered the hanger bay and made their way to the elevator in the far back of the clearing. Around the area, various personnel were making final preparations for lift off and travel through the relay.

"To reiterate, I did hear some intriguing theories last time I visited Omega, sightings of the Geth on otherwise uninhabited worlds, poking around caves. You think the Harvesters could've gotten through to them?" Fredrick asked the commander as he hailed the elevator. The few conversations he heard back in the dank streets of Omega were unsettling, and still ran through his head, months after debriefing.

"Once again, we can't be sure just yet. For all we know, the Quarian-Geth War never ended, and they're still taking pot-shots at each other," Burke responded to Fredrick's claim. "However, I wouldn't be surprised if the Harvesters managed to easily infect their systems and bend them to their will, completely unopposed."

The two stepped out as they arrived at their destined deck and continued their way to the bridge. "If this is the case, what do you think would be the best approach, commander?"

"If the VI is broken or corrupted, we could still find a piece of Geth tech that clearly isn't their own, or if the public is forced to take action against them, we could find something in their ruins that proves their existence, if it isn't too late by then." Burke clearly held some dread in those final words, like he knew it was the latter that would occur.

"If everyone else is damned to fall to the Harvesters, wouldn't it be a better allocation of resources to simply prepare rather than trying hopelessly to convince a galaxy unable to see beyond their own noses the desperation of reality?"

"High command has been devoting equal resources to both causes, major. Even if we're prepared, we'll still fall when we're racing to drag everyone to victory with us, especially if they're kicking and screaming. If the Harvesters are taking their time, so will we until they make their next appearance." The two approached the galaxy map, and the officer standing next to it. "Officer, I trust all assets are aboard and ready to go?"

"Yes sir, we received word from the skeleton crew that the dreadnought is ready for transport, and will be following," the officer saluted.

"Good, we'll be on our way then. Open up coms and get permission for take off," the commander directed Fredrick.

Fredrick made his way to the communication relay at the other side of the room, and initiated the call. "Command, this is Major Müller aboard the TMSD _Persistence,_ seeking permission to depart."

 _Major, this is command. The airspace is clear, and all of your systems are reading positive. You are completely clear for lift off. Godspeed._

* * *

 **13 hrs/13 min/22 sec**

 **TMSD** _ **Persistence**_ **mess hall, en route to the Rosetta Nebula**

Fredrick and Max were talking to each other as they made their way out of the room, dropping their lunch trays at the kitchen. "So get this, Fred. We had the bastard surrounded, all sights trained on him, and we were repeatedly asking if he was unharmed. The moment I got a good scan of him, he whips around showing us his corrupted appearance."

The two had been talking about Max's endeavors on the field. Ever since Max had been promoted to Captain, he had been moved to a separate division, specialized more in ship-to-ship boarding combat. Additionally, his team was trained in search and rescue missions, and were given missions that concerned mass-evacuating many individuals in short periods of time, or to apprehend enemies without causing civilian or non-combatant casualties. In his most recent mission, Max had been shipped off to accept a purchase from a Turian trade company what was presumed to be a Prothean artifact. However, the group's ship had never arrived at the agreed trade site, and was presumed attacked and destroyed by pirates within the sector.

A week later, a derelict ship of the same description had arrived in the Caleston Rift, completely unresponsive to all attempts to connect. After boarding, Max found yet another hive of corrupted Turians either morphed into monstrosities, or still maintaining their form and memories, using the fallen's weapons with great accuracy. When they arrived at the bridge, they found the captain facing away from them, telling them of his gratitude that they had arrived. Just as they were about to approach him, the Turian captain turned around and pounced, revealing the extensive implants of his own.

"What did he look like?" Fredrick asked.

"He looked like the skeleton of a Turian, but still had some structure to him. Along with heavily synthesized organs, he had most of his muscular tissue replace with what looked like hydraulics. Unlike most other corrupted, he was glowing bright red, like a traffic light. He was also ridiculously heavy, as it took three guys just to lift him off of me. After that initial encounter, he began to jump around the ship, clinging to the walls and bombarding us with balls of red energy. We lost a good fifty guys on that ship total," Max concluded his story.

"Shit. How many hostiles were on that ship?" The duo had stopped outside an elevator and continued their conversation.

"It was a really big trade ship. When we checked the crew records, it appears the most was designated towards stock management and ship repair. Overall, it rounded to be close to one hundred and twenty. Much of the crew was contorted into tank-like corrupted, many merged into one, making it significantly harder to combat. Anyways, the elevator has arrived. I'll be in the bunks reading. See you later," Max said before the two went their separate ways.

Fredrick stepped onto the elevator and swiftly went up to the bridge to meet with Burke. Their ship was just about to approach the relay entering into the Rosetta Nebula.

"Müller, we've received a troubling transmission from the Flotilla. A small group of Batarian pirates had infiltrated one of their ships and have taken hostages. Their demands are for one of their much older additions to the Flotilla, saying that it's part of their 'heritage.' They're asking if we could assist removing the threat before we proceed with the trade," the commander quickly informed him.

"Won't be a problem sir. How do you recommend we approach?" Fredrick asked.

"You'll be dropped off on the controlled ship via stealth-dropship, and will make your way into the airlock. Once you are aboard, you'll proceed to take down any pirate aboard as you see fit. Just make sure there are no casualties, or we could very well lose this deal. Got it?" Burke ordered.

"Crystal clear sir. I'll be on the way to the hanger. I presume Captain Hong will be on his way?"

"I had messaged him just seconds before you arrived. Now get going, we probably won't have much time once we arrive."

Fredrick returned to the elevator just as quickly as he had exited, then made his way down to the hanger level. As he exited and passed by the barracks, Max was finishing putting on his navy blue with white stripes armor before being alerted to Fredrick's presence. "Fredrick, I presume the commander has informed you?"

"He did. Seeing as you perform this type of operation much more often than I do, which is saying something, I'll defer to you for the general approach for this mission. What would you recommend?"

"Usually, when hostages are present, I opt more for a non-lethal arsenal, meaning EMP grenades, stun grenades, and railguns using stun rounds. As for me personally, and others with advanced nanite glands, I prefer to bring extra overclock stims to maximize my cloak implants when I approach surrounded hostages and get the drop on hostiles. I avoid using gas grenades or grenade launchers for these, as I find it does increase the risk of depressurization. Finally, I have engineers use probes to scale out the extent of traps laid down ahead of us. I've alerted my own team to equip accordingly, and you should probably do likewise."

"Alright, I'll be heading to the barracks. I'll be back in about seven minutes." Fredrick then returned to the barracks while Max continued towards the hanger.

* * *

 **18 hrs/02 min/56 sec Local Time**

 **Enoch System, Rosetta Nebula**

The _Persistence,_ followed shortly by the much older Terran dreadnoughtslowly drifted out of the relay and towards the Flotilla off in the distance. Fredrick, Max, and Burke all stood in the bridge watching as they approached the mass of ships. The pilots at the front of the room initialized a hail for docking permission. Stepping forward, Burke started with, "This is Commander Burke of the 23rd Division of the Terran Navy, requesting permission to dock with the Rayya."

 _"Permission to dock granted. Please proceed to docking cradle 15,"_ the Quarian docking control spoke over the coms.

"Our ship isn't suitable for your environment, so we advise that you prepare whatever requisitions you need for docking with a ship like ours. We'll be taking measures of our own," the commander reassured.

 _"Understood. I'll let Admiral Luf'Zorah nar Rayya know you have arrived. He said he wanted to discuss personally matters towards our hostage crisis,"_ the docking control continued.

The commander turned towards the two field medics once the coms disconnected. "Get you and your men ready, and make sure your suits stay completely sealed the whole time. Make sure you go through decontamination as well, as it'd show the Quarians some courtesy."

The two left to the docking area at the port side of the ship. As ordered, their respective squads were waiting there for them already. All eight entered the decontamination chamber, and began to make their way onto the Rayya. When they entered, there was a decontamination crew waiting for them on the other side, as well as Admiral Luf'Zorah nar Rayya. He continued to wear his gray suit, now stylized towards a more adult fit and with golden trim, presumably to resemble his greater rank.

"Major Müller, it's an honor to meet you again," the admiral said, giving a light bow.

Fredrick returned with a similar nod before saying, "Likewise Admiral Zorah, it's good to see that you are doing well for yourself. I presume that dreadnought from fourteen years prior is still proving to be useful."

"Indeed. Anyways, time is wasting as is. Shall we proceed to the issue at hand?" Luf asked, gesturing down the hall.

"Yes, the Batarian pirates. They aren't disciplined, but are incredibly aggressive, and aren't afraid of taking great risks," Fredrick answered. It was pretty much stereotypical of Terrans around Fredrick's age to show distaste towards the Batarians in general, extended fallout from their first contact with the "barbaric" race.

"Yes, there are a dozen heavily armed pirates with fifty civilian hostages under their control. They currently are bunkered down in residential block zero-six-four, and have blockaded many of the entrances, while setting up MG placements around the more open entrances," Luf explained, barely able to contain the panic in his voice. "They've also rigged a few gas ordinances in some of the ventilation shafts and blocked entrances, to funnel any offensive approach into limited areas, given they don't have much manpower to work with."

The group made their way through the various corridors, of the Rayya. To Fredrick, the ship looked like a civilian transport ship, given how much of their living supplies and equipment were held to the walls by storage netting, and the tight living spaces to maximize the use of each living quarter. Eventually, the group made it to one of the blocked off areas, where a group of Quarian marines had bunkered down, while around the corner in a more open space leading into the block was largely open, but had several crates thrown down across the front with two Batarian pirates on guard, one with a heavy rifle.

Fredrick then turned to the others in his party and began to discuss their plan. "Alright, here's what we've got. We've got several scout drones. We'll use those to scout out a secure path through the vents, and defuse the few required to get through, as we'll defuse the others once the crisis is over. After that, eight of us will sneak in while the four remainders stay out here and keep pressure on those out here, maybe even draw their attention. As recommended by Captain Hong, stick to only non-lethal weapons, but should a firefight break out, use your EMP grenades to weaken their shields. Most importantly, _watch your shots_ , we've got important people in there."

Luf then poked into the conversation with one final notice. "Oh, and Major Müller, please be careful in there, they've got my son, Rael in there. Please bring him out alive, he means the Galaxy to me," Luf begged.

Fredrick turned to the others. "Check that, _really_ important people, children too. Move out." Fredrick, Max, and four other soldiers followed closely behind them while the two remaining troops joined the Quarian marines at the front of the barricade. The six found the nearest vent, and a couple of tossed drones inside. The combat engineers at their side pulled up the video feeds on their HUDs and took direct control as the drones began to weave into the vents. A few defused gas mines later, the team began to quietly crawl into the small, dark, dry space behind the panels of the ship and snaked through security until they exited behind a small shaft right behind a row of sleeping pods. The small block consisted of three levels of three-meter tall, symmetrical living space, with a small balcony-like setting leaving a shaft from the third floor to the bottom floor, finishing in a small courtyard. On their knees below were fifty Quarian civilians, each producing a panicked whisper, a sad cry of fear, or a hush in an attempt to calm the others. The level they exited onto was the second level, and the guards were all oblivious to their presence.

Using their enhanced vision, the group found all twelve pirates within the block. On the first level were a total of six pirates, two guarding the pool of Quarians, two at the front suppressing the main effort to enter, and two others patrolling the area, looking for rescuers attempting to enter their space. The second level held what appeared to be the captain of the crew, as well as his first mate, as the two seemed to be yelling the most out of the whole crew. The third floor consisted of the remaining four, three holding the fort at the door, and the fourth doing patrol rounds. The team went to work on the second and third floors, Fredrick and one other covering the first, while Max and the other three went a level above to start clearing resistance.

Fredrick proceeded to ambush the pirate captain, jam his particle knife into his thorax, and turn the blade, before quickly dragging the struggling pirate into the shadows of a darkened living pod. Off in the distance, the combat engineer snapped the neck of the lieutenant, just as the Batarian noticed the captain's absence. Clear of any other pirates on that level, Fredrick called Max to learn of his progress. "Max, is everything alright up there?"

 _Almost, I and three other guys just took out the second gunner position, and one guy is taking care of- PSST! Hey! Watch it!_ Off in the distance, he could hear several wrestling noises. Followed shortly was a loud clang, before a pirate SMG fell off the top balcony down to the bottom courtyard. The gun hit something hard and discharged a shot, prompting a few panicked yells from both the pirates and the captives.

Sneaking over towards the edge, Fredrick peered over to get a good view of what was happening. A few of the Quarians had backed away from a small child wearing maroon, who had managed to get ahold of the SMG and was clutching it fearfully, as some of the pirates approached the child at gun. In the meantime, he heard a radio go off on the third floor, a pirate calling to their unknowingly dead or unconscious comrades what had just happened. At this point, two pirates from two directions had entered the pool of Quarian civilians to retrieve the gun.

With a new burst of adrenaline, the world slowed down around Fredrick, as his mind raced to think of a safe approach. The Quarians were slowly starting to inch back towards the child in protection as the pirates approached. Fredrick wouldn't have much landing space, meaning that he'd have to bioticly keep himself lifted above the ground. Then that provided the problem of protecting the civs from a barrage of fire as the pirates turned their attention towards him. Without any further consideration, he injected himself with an overclock stim, and jumped over the balcony.

Fredrick came dashing into view, just short of the ground, before he flung the two pirates across the room, and erected a biotic barrier surrounding the group of Quarians. The Quarians stayed low and began to panic as the pirates began to turn their attention towards him and unload their weapons. Fredrick then called Max, unable to hide the physical strain in his voice. "Max, get down here! I've just thrown myself into the lion's den!" Fortunately, the Quarians were kind enough to back up and give him some space to land.

 _Oh Jesus Christ, Fred! Everyone, move!_ Max yelled with severe annoyance.

Still at the center of public attention, Fredrick pulled out the railgun he had been recommended to equip, and shot a burst of stun rounds on one of the pirates, sending the intruder crumpling to the floor unconscious. Another stun shot took a pirate by surprise from the side, as Max and the others appeared from the stairs. While Fredrick kept the Quarians protected, Max and the others apprehended all remaining pirates in the vicinity.

Fredrick dropped the shield, and left through the main entrance to inform the admiral the pirates had been dealt with. Just as he walked towards Luf, the child in maroon came dashing out from behind him towards the admiral.

"Papa!"

"Oh, Rael! I'm so happy you are safe! Thank you major for your efforts," Luf said as he got down on his knees to hug the child. "So, I presume you still want to continue with the trade?" he asked as he stood back up.

"Not yet, we'll also be doing the courtesy of cleanup, as well as defusing the mines and removing them, so it will be a while. However, I can still show you the statistics of the dreadnought while my men do the work," Fredrick answered as he pulled out a datapad and handed it to Luf. "As you can see, the build is still relatively new, so you won't need to constantly repair it for the next few centuries, unless you plan to go into full-fledged space combat with it."

"I see, major. I still don't understand why you show us such kindness, Müller," the admiral said, prompting some conversation between the two.

"Well, we see it as completely unnecessary to deny your kind the aid it needs, regardless of how some may see your exile as a product of the mistakes your ancestors made. We ourselves are no better if we simply allow you to starve, and have no home to turn to," Fredrick replied, thinking back to his conversation with Burke earlier that day.

"You had said something about being in a similar position, no? I have a general idea of what happened, but I was hoping for further explanation," Luf prompted.

"It was one hundred and twenty seven cycles ago when my people first took step into the vast emptiness. Our planet was dying from centuries of abuse, and we sought salvation in a wormhole that led to another galaxy. Due to still understood events after unearthing several ancient artifacts, the wormhole closed, leaving us on the other side away from our home planet, Earth. While we have since sought our own path, I still can't help but wonder what has become of Earth, and those who lived on it," Fredrick explained further.

"Somewhat similar to the Drell," the admiral commented. "Do you know what it was like?"

"From what the first generation had told me, it was a strange mix of old and new, ugly and beautiful, industrial and natural. I don't know if I we ever will find our way back, but if we ever do return, I'd like to see it." At most, Fredrick only understood Earth based upon the stories told by the originals, like General Sokolov, and whatever historical records they brought along. He felt genuinely intrigued by whether all life continued or went extinct on Earth. "You ever wonder the same with Rannoch?"

"I don't know, Müller. I'm unsure if we could ever fight, or negotiate our way back home, and find peace. All we Quarians could ever hope to find is a place to call home besides ships drifting among the stars."

"True enough, true enough," Fredrick responded as he, Luf, and Rael looked back towards the previously occupied block.


	11. Chapter 11: Child at the Doorstep

(A/N): Okay, now bear with me for this sequence, I've done as much as I can to research the character I'll be including in Fred's storyline, but there is surprisingly little to be found outside of what is presented in the comics and novels within the Mass Effect Universe. I'll be piecing together what makes the most sense to me with this empty part, so god-help-me if I mess something up.

Chapter 11: Child at the Doorstep

 _When I first met the man, he was nothing but a child. I thought nothing much of him besides what was provided in his profile, some suspicion and pity. Born into an exceptionally cruel world, he was simply one among the mass of the ordinary. However, he was intelligent, had his wits about him in a way that had him promoted early. I can't believe I had been so blind during this sequence of my life. Perhaps had I been more gentle, I would've prevented such a catastrophe in the future._

* * *

 **Feb 12, 2155**

 **10 hrs/13 min/55 sec**

 **Council Conference Chamber**

"I'm not sure what you hold against the Augs, but I still stand by my words: the Terran Republic is a powerful ally to have," Councilor Taex stated.

"I'm more concerned about their increased trade and excavation activities within the last couple of decades. They've always been concerned about technological expansions for the longest I can remember about them, and I can't help but wonder about their future plans," Tevos tried to explain. While Tevos was genuinely curious as to what the Terran Republic was attempting to achieve, she was still careful to draw attention away from herself. She knew Major Müller had compromised communications between her and the pre-retirement T'zeros, and could easily expose her.

"I'm more worried about pirates and slavers. While both the Turian Military and C-Sec have done their job to secure Citadel Space, slavers, drug traffickers, and worse have still been able to slip in and out of our borders with ease. While Specters do apprehend them in the long run, it simply takes them too long to stop the damage," Councilor Sancso responded, keeping her mandibles tight against her jaws.

Taex cleared his throat as he followed up with Sancso's response. "What we've been discussing is that perhaps we could extend back out to the Terran Republic, but in a less-than-traditional manner."

Tevos sighed at the fact her colleagues had failed to include her earlier in this conversation. Councilors, Salarians in general, were often quick to drop any feelings towards hiding facts from their coworkers, but it didn't stop the habit from being any less annoying. "What did you two have in mind?" she asked.

"Simply put, I want a new breed of Specter out on the field to watch our borders," Sancso answered, leaning forward. "I was hoping we could propose to the Terran Republic to send one of their best troops to personally train one of our newest potential candidates. Not only will we get the Specter we need, but it is a simple way to ease back into friendship."

"Very well, it will be done," Tevos yielded. "May I ask who you had in mind for training?"

Sancso leaned back in her seat and pulled out her omnitool. "A young recruit who has caught my attention recently. He's only been enlisted for a year, yet he's already climbed his way through the ranks rather quickly," Sanscso answered as she sent Tevos the trainee's profile. "His name is Saren Arterius."

* * *

 **Feb 15, 2055**

 **08 hrs/01 min/22 sec**

 **Specter Training Center**

It had been a few days since the council had contacted HQ with a request to have him, or the likes of him train a potential Specter. While he was away for the next year or so, Max would be taking up his position and continuing in his place till he returned. On his way back to the Citadel Station, he had been thoroughly looking over the student's profile, becoming familiar with the subject at hand.

The Turian recruit's name was Saren Arterius, age sixteen, minor biotic, and a rising star in the ranks of the Turian Military. His only family is his twin brother, Desolas, as the two's parents had died while they were still in infancy. As both sides of their families were in a small feud and neither side offered to adopt the two. The Arterius brothers were subsequently sent into an orphanage under the Turian Hierarchy's "Children of War" program. Because both lived in the orphanage, and their parents didn't live long enough to give them their clan markings, both were left barefaced, and were hassled by this trait through many of their school years.

As per usual, Saren and Desolas attended mandatory military service at the age of fifteen. During the many missions the two had attended, Saren especially had proven himself to be an efficient fighter and tactful leader. After just a single year, he was just a rank below his shipmaster, which then put Saren's name forward for Specter candidacy. As of right now, he was being mentally evaluated in the Specter training center on the Citadel and was awaiting retrieval for his first training session on the field.

He entered the lobby of the center and towards the front desk. The general layout didn't seem too far different to what were once the halls of the Terran Embassy. He approached the Salarian behind the desk saying, "Hello, here on behalf of the Terran Republic, I'm correct to say that I'll be training the recruit Saren Arterius?"

The Salarian looked up from his monitors and surprise. "Ah yes, Major Müller. Good to know you've arrived. Come with me, Saren's finishing up his morning practice session." The Salarian got up from behind the desk and began to walk towards a hall towards the far left of the room, beckoning Fredrick to follow.

Fredrick passed by a few rooms where recruits were practicing CQC, maintaining their weapons, watching vids and learning tactics, or practicing slicing through security. Eventually, Fredrick was lead to a firing range where there were various recruits or seasoned vets practicing down an ordinary firing range, shooting at projections. Saren was at the far other side, and firing down at a target before switching out the thermal clip.

"Enlistee Arterius, your new instructor has arrived!" the Salarian shouted over the raging gunfire.

Saren, turning his attention towards the source of the voice, put the safety on his rifle, put it back on a supply desk, than began to make his way back to the entrance of the range. "Sir!" he saluted. Fredrick had encountered a few Turian children, but rarely encountered any late-teen Turians. Saren was of an average height, solid build, and had gray-white plates. He wore a dark gray uniform, with the Specter emblem on the chest in white. His voice was young, yet to experience the majority of adulthood and had a light tone of cheerfulness.

"I'd like you to meet Major Müller of the Terran Military. He'll be training you for the next year, and several months if need be. The assignments you'll be given are of the major's choosing," the Salarian explained before turning to Fredrick. "His life is in your hands, major. Take care of him." The Salarian quickly left the room to return to his work.

Exiting the firing range, Saren was the first to introduce himself to the towering white warrior. "W-well Major Müller, my name is Saren Arterius. I've heard much about you," he stuttered, reaching forward to shake hands. His blue eyes and lightly twitching mandibles gave a light sense of awe and admiration, keeping in sync with his surprisingly friendly tone.

Fredrick didn't like the overall task of training, or teaching in general, but was still willing to follow orders. Saren reminded him too much about his own early years and Max's early years within the military. For a child with such a dreary childhood, Saren was surprisingly light-hearted and optimistic. He couldn't help but wonder what Saren's superiors saw in him in terms of potential. "Yeah, good to meet you, Arterius," he started hastily, shaking Saren's hand. "What's your general approach in combat? Short range? Aggressive? At a distance? Stealthy? Also, how well do you treat those under your command?"

Saren blinked for a moment. He'd only just met the famous warrior, and the Aug was already bombarding him with questions about tactics. Had he made a bad impression this soon? "I-I was rather hoping to know you better, Major Müller."

"Considering this will be a teacher-student relationship, its just Fredrick. Anyways, if you really want the gritty details, some things I'm just not proud of displaying, but I just might reveal to you some secrets. As for the pubic image, I've been at my job for well over one hundred cycles by now, so you'll be safe so long as you're with me. I do care for my men, but I still take an approach where I get the job done as effectively as possible," Fredrick explained. He was really hoping he wouldn't have to answer the goddamn question in the future, as thinking about his past was already hard as is. "As you'll probably learn later on in life, everyone has secrets that they like to keep buried, and I've got a graveyard-worth."

"I… see. Well-ll it's still an h-honor to meet you, Fredrick." Golly was the kid nervous, but maybe it was because of Fredrick's almost non-existent kill-record. By non-existent, Fredrick meant he'd lost count. "What'll be our first mission?" Saren asked with better confidence as the two entered the Specter locker rooms to get Saren's equipment.

"First things first, how much experience have you had on the field?" Fredrick asked once more. Fredrick made it habitual to check the backgrounds of all he had to work with who weren't Terran Military, if he was going to fight along side them and patch them up.

"Well, some pirate raids, and a several defense missions on colonies. What did you have in mind?" Saren asked, as he put on the various segments of his white, clean armor.

"I've got a lead I'd like to pick up on Omega, we're going after a pirate Salarian named Aegaf Amali. You know him?"

"Just reputation alone, what's so special about him?" Saren clipped on piece after piece of his armor as Fredrick stood by.

"Simple, he's a problem for all sides of the argument, and I intend on cutting him down, no questions asked. We have a few moles set throughout the Terminus, and I've been recently told that one of his lieutenants is currently on Omega, seeing through a drug trade with suppliers. I intend on getting the drop on him, finding any equipment he has, then getting a good fix on where he might be. Understood?" Fredrick quickly summarized.

"Seems easy enough," Saren answered as he walked forward, completely armored, and putting his helmet into place.

"Good. Just to be clear, some law-abiders don't like Specters for a reason. From what I've seen and heard about the group, the council feels pretty liberal about how Specters get the job done, so long as they get results. While this freedom means you can get the job done however you like, how some Specters have gotten the job done has left a stain on the organization name. Unfortunately, there's some dirty work that has to be done to get the best outcome, so I'm hoping you can bring yourself to do so," Fredrick told Saren as the two began to make their way to the docking bay of the training center.

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Saren answers. Of all the things Saren could've gone on to do after military service, the Specters is what he wanted. From what he had seen during his own childhood, he wanted to help people and make a difference as a force of good.

Fredrick felt sorry for Saren. He knew that from the background Saren came from, becoming a Specter would mean the universe for him. Unfortunately, he was far too idealistic for such a role, if wetwork was going to be his main duty.

* * *

 **Feb 16, 2155**

 **19 hrs/33 min/59 sec Local Time**

 **Omega Station, Omega Nebula**

The two had been the filthy rock for a few hours now, and were slinking around in the shadows. Fredrick very well knew that after how many occasions he'd been in that shithole that he was most likely less than welcome. While he hadn't actually talked directly with Aria T'loka, he didn't want to find out whether or not he was actually in trouble with her.

As of the moment, Fredrick and Saren had been stalking a Batarian and a dozen armed men from the shadows. They mostly stuck to the rooftops and higher up ledges, as Fredrick found the inhabitants of the station had a bad habit of not looking in high places for intruders. The two had been following the group all around the group for almost an hour now, but the lieutenant wasn't going into any pockets of closed areas, meaning he had plenty of openings for escape at all times. He finally saw a potential chance when he saw a henchman approach the Batarian with a datapad, before the datapad was given back. Fredrick followed the lone henchman into an unattended hanger bay through a vent in the roof.

He and Saren silently stalked the lone worker from above until the Salarian stopped in front of a shelf on the side of the hanger with boxes of drug shipments. Taking advantage of the worker's lack of area awareness, Fredrick jumps right down upon the poor Salarian, crushing the head, and causing the chest cavity to telescope into a bloody, meaty pulp, with bones and other remains sticking out.

"Spirits! Was that necessary?" Saren responded with shock displayed by his dual-tone voice.

Fredrick ignored the comment as he looked over the datapad as he searched for anything that could help find the source of the drug shipment. Unfortunately, there were too many trade stops to find a single source. He threw down the datapad and looked around the mostly empty warehouse for possible alternatives. No one else seemed to notice he just crushed a Salarian worker. If he was going to get that lieutenant to come into a confined space, he had to make some noise.

As Saren made his way down, he came along side Fredrick. "So, what's the plan now?"

"Sabotage the hanger doors while I find a way to set off the alarm. I've got something risky in mind, and we won't have a big window to work with." At both ends of the hanger were two tanks full of fuel and several barrels for easy transportation. Fredrick quickly filled two barrels while Saren sabotaged the hanger controls so that the all other entrances besides the main entrance would stay shut. Approaching a ship under maintenance, Fredrick dumped both of the barrels on a transport ship's interior, used a spare metal rod to puncture holes in the fuel tank, allowed the fuel to pour onto the hanger floor.

"Are you sure this will work? I mean, what if we're caught in the fire?" Saren asked with concern as he returned to Fredrick. During his time in the military, Saren had developed very reserved tactics, choosing to avoid great explosions and instead choosing to cut out resistance without harming the structure.

"This station may not exactly be up to date with safety regulation, but it does have up-to-date fire detectors and some extinguishers." Fredrick walked back to what remained of the Salarian and cut off his omnitool arm using his particle knife. "For now, get behind the crates on the upper level, and get into an ambush position." As Saren went into hiding, Fredrick turned, shot the puddle of fuel, and threw a shelf over the worker's remains. He quickly sent the lieutenant a message about the fire and how he "needed" help. Catching up to Saren, the fire alarms started to blare inside of the hanger. Several minutes of waiting later, the lieutenant and four other armed guards of various races rushed into the room, guns sweeping the room for movement.

"Fan out! Find what the hell happened here, and who is responsible! I want a face-to-face discussion with whichever of you lazy cunts started playing with fuel!" the Batarian hollered.

As soon as the group of five completely passed the crates, Fredrick lept over, initiated a biotic barrier, and instantly gunned down a Krogan, followed shortly by Saren gunning down an Asari, a Turian, and finished by bioticly throwing another Batarian against a wall with a solid crack, leaving the lieutenant without help or protection.

The Batarian quickly brought out his omnitool to call for help. "I'm being attacked in hanger 0-!" he managed to get out before Fredrick shot his left arm off, causing the pirate to squeal in pain, clutching his stump. Fredrick, kicking the pirate's side arm off to the side and picking up the severed arm, began to drag him up the stairs and into an office overlooking the hanger and putting him in a chair. Fredrick tied the lieutenant's arm and legs to the chair using a loose cable before turning to Saren.

"Saren, shut the last door, we'll need some privacy. Also, sabotage security, and leave no footage of us here," he ordered, gesturing to the control console as Saren followed behind him. He turned his attention back to the pirate before him and spoke in a harsh, quiet tone. "Start talking, I want to know where your boss is. I would like to have a talk with him."

"Fat chance, Wolf! You know he's always one step ahead, he'll be gone long before you reach him!" the Batarian spat, trying to break loose.

"I have your omnitool, and everything worth half a shit on it. The contact names and locations are mine, but I need you to help me better understand them," Fredrick said, twirling the arm around like a toy.

"How about I have my men feed you to a pack of ill Varren?" the pirate grinned sadistically.

"So this is a game to you?" Fredrick shot back as he used the pirate's own arm to slap him upside the head. "I have no problem playing games, but I'm on a schedule. So if you could be so kind as to tell me where to go from here, I'll be on my way, and I might consider sparing you," Fredrick offered with another slap.

"You have no idea what that bastard does to rats!" the Batarian panted. He was now scared, and reeling with pain.

"You obviously have no idea what I'm capable of doing to scum like you." Fredrick switched out for his rifle and shot off the Batarian's right leg, sending a howling scream out to echo across the hanger. Fredrick could clearly see how uncomfortable Saren looked in his peripheral vision, and watched as his body and biological statistics contorted in disgust.

"PLEASE! I'LL TALK, I'LL TALK! He's on the station! XinDian District, Block 2!" he screamed. Just as he finished, the trio began to hear yells at the other side of the entrance at the far end of the hanger. "Shit, Calvary has arrived. I can't wait to see you two on you knees, beg-."

"I'll see you in hell, I've got work to do," Fredrick interrupted as he grabbed the Batarian's head. Pulling out his particle knife, Fredrick fluidly stabbed each of the four eyes in his grasp, prompting more pain-filled screaming from the pirate before he finally slit the prisoner's throat. The lieutenant took his final breaths as he attempted to take breaths while choking on his blood.

"No time to waste, let's go," he beckoned to Saren as he made his way for the exit.

Saren was simply standing there, trembling at the sight of the dying Batarian. He shook to his sense when Fredrick jerked him out of the room. The two began to climb up to the rafters as they saw the door being cut down by welding torches. The two just slipped out of the hanger as the group of pirates came pouring in, and made their dash across the rooftops to a safe distance.

After about fifteen minutes of running, the two sat down to take off their helmets and catch a breath. "Good work Saren, I'm surprised by your capabilities in combat."

Fredrick hadn't realized that Saren was still trembling from their escape.

"What's wrong Arterius?"

"I-I doon't-t know. I'm st-still surprised by what you did to that pirate lieutenant," Saren stuttered.

Fredrick put a hand on his shoulder trying to comfort his student. Fredrick was surprised that what he'd done had actually turned Saren's stomach. He thought that Saren would've been much more useful to the brutalities he would inevitably see. "Saren, this is the Terminus Systems. If you don't fight for yourself, no one will."

"But that Batarian was tied to a chair!" Saren argued. "His arm was shot off, he was completely defenseless, and you just carved him up!"

"Criminals like him are incredibly stubborn, and capture alone will not shake their moral. If you want to strike fear in the minds of enemies out here in lawless hellholes such as Omega Station, they will not relent, and they will not show mercy. If you make an example of one of such rank, you'll let them know of the punishment that awaits them. You will let them know they will pay for their crimes, and subsequently, they'll be demoralized. Besides, men like him have hurt millions of innocents in return. Not just here in the Terminus, but plenty back at home in Citadel Space in the form of their poison. If you want to earn justice for those who have been hurt by people like these, you must break them," Fredrick lectured to Saren. "Is that clear?"

Saren steadily nodded. "I-I understand. So what now?"

"We'll take a five minute break, then head down to the XinDian district. If we're lucky, Amali will still be there."

* * *

(P.S.): Now before you accuse me of trying to write poor fanservice, let me explain that I really feel the Mass Effect writers were rather indecisive about what to do with Saren as a character. Firstly, while it is clearly established in the game, book, and comic that Saren is an asshole, they try to depict him partially as a victim towards the end of the first Mass Effect. Secondly, I felt that Saren's character needed more development in terms of his per-service character, or his childhood and understanding where he develops his prejudices. Thirdly, when Saren does die at the end of the first Mass Effect, his death is just there. To me at least, his death didn't actually carry any weight, whether it be positive or negative. I know the game wants us to think "yay, that asshole is dead," how it portrays him in his final moments and the encounter on Virmire suggests to me otherwise. So there, that's my pitiful excuse for including Saren in this storyline.


	12. Chapter 12: The Pain we Share

(A/N): I know Saren's "young Turian" disposition on the world is a bit stereotypical in every sense of the word, but I've said it before and I'll reiterate: for the amount of story time Saren gets, he's criminally underdeveloped as a character. If I do infringe too much upon his canon self, as in what is depicted in Evolutions, Revelations, and ME1, please let me know. Now that I've really started to touch on one of the more major characters, I should probably state once more that I don't own Mass Effect. All characters and other property belong to Electronic Arts and Bioware.

Chapter 12: The Pain We Share

 _Inevitably, we all carry the burden of certain regrets. The impact of our actions and their inevitable consequences, hangs on our psyches like corpses displayed outside a fortress' wall. My regret is how I treated Saren during his youth. Even as he had largely passed a fragile sequence of his past, it continued to haunt him. What I had done, what I had told him, and what I made him do shaped him into the damaged man he is today._

* * *

 **Feb 16, 2155**

 **22 hrs/12 min/46 sec**

 **XinDian District, Omega Station**

With the help of the lieutenant's omnitool, Fredrick and Saren had made their way down into the heart of the station to the XinDian District. As they arrived, they noticed the area had been increasingly fortified. Squads of the same armored pirate began to patrol the streets and the surrounding area outside of the district. Infiltration would be especially challenging, as the enemy HUDs had motion trackers meaning excessive movement would tip them off to anyone nearby.

With usual fashion, Saren and Fredrick entered the district via the air ducts. Fredrick used his enhanced vision to keep an eye on his surroundings, telling Saren to keep still whenever someone got too close. Even if they weren't one of the pirates, people would still panic at the thought of interlopers on their turf, especially on a station filled with the worst the galaxy had to offer. Eventually, they made their way to the environmental control room towards the other side of the block and exited.

They exited onto a ledge, which opened up into a massive room, where down the middle was a control panel and a series of fans at their general level. Towards the left and right were stairs that led downward to either side for maintenance purposes towards similar rooms at the back of each walkway. At the main control panel were two workers, who had yet to notice their presence.

"What do you have in mind, Maj- Fredrick?" Saren asked, still becoming accustomed to referring to his mentor by his first name rather than rank and surname.

"As much as I could easily take down this whole nest on my own, my job is to teach you how to use your environment to your advantage, not to throw you to the wolves just yet. We'll get down there, and work something that'll throw the block into confusion, such as start breathing out excessive steam. It's become pretty apparent that Aegaf Amali knows someone has it out for him. If he plays his cards wisely, he'll make like hell off this rock till we lose his scent. If we play our cards in accordance, he won't even have a chance to get onto a shuttle outward," Fredrick explained. "Remember, you'll be a Specter. So long as you keep your head down around the bigwigs, you won't have to be held accountable for shit. Let's go."

The two made their way towards the other side, and apprehended the two workers. Neither of them was armed or dangerous, but Fredrick couldn't risk them alerting the pirates to their presence and identity. While Saren kept watch, Fredrick manipulated the environmental controls to suit a more humid environment, flooding the block with a thick mist. Fredrick and Saren walked back into the civilian sector, and used the information from the late lieutenant's omnitool to guide them to their target. Having also adjusted their telecoms to local frequencies, they could tell Amali had yet to leave, or take any serious action outside of defense.

As they made their way down the hall, Fredrick once again used his implants to guide them through the vapor, tainted a light orange by the mellow lighting. As they made their way around, both civilians and pirates were rushing around. Saren then tapped Fredrick on the shoulder with another question.

"There are still pirates around. Aren't you worried that they'll see us?" he asked nervously.

"A pirate's loyalty is only as strong as his rate of income. Once they realize a job is worth much more than they are being paid, they'll flee their employers like Pyjacks out of a burning building. I've made an infamous reputation among the Terminus Systems. Even if they did pay attention to who they pass among this confusion, they see me as nothing more than a quick end to their careers. If you live long enough and rack up a high enough kill count, they'll see you as the same." Fredrick had fought against and infiltrated enough criminal establishments to very well know the ins and outs of the criminal mentality.

"I see," Saren said with increasing discomfort. "I thought there would be more heroism in Specter work."

"There is and will be. Even if we aren't defusing bombs last second, remember what I said earlier, Saren. People all through the galaxy are much safer with individuals like these dead."

The two eventually exited the steamy blindness of the tight corridors and entered a more open area. Ahead, across the opening from where they stood was medium sized apartment complex. A few Blood Pack soldiers at the base of the building were arguing with their leader about presumably orders.

"Are those Blood Pack?" Saren asked.

"Undoubtedly," Fredrick answered. "And if I'm not mistaken, that's Warlord Qurg at the head of that squad right there." Fredrick put on a scope onto his particle rifle and looked down it. He zoomed in on the Krogan's face, and got a good view to confirm identity. Just then, the Krogan drew out his shotgun in rage, and shot the leg of a subordinate Salarian clean off, sending it across the clearing. "Yes, that is Warlord Qurg. He has a nasty habit of severing the limbs he finds distaste for, especially men who fail their jobs," Fredrick said bringing the rifle down to his hip.

"I suppose close quarters would be a bad choice then?" Saren asked, thinking about how to take the hulking mercenary down.

"See? Now you are getting yourself into the mindset of the job," Fredrick encouraged proudly. There's a balcony above us, we could get a good angle from there, and there might be some equipment left lying around.

The two crept up a flight of stairs, trying desperately not to set off the five Blood Pack mercenaries, excluding the Salarian who had been thrown off to the side of the area and was clinging to his leg as he quickly bled out. On the upper balcony were two Vorcha standing guard, each with ML-77s. The two smelled the approaching men in white too late, and their lives were swiftly ended with two simultaneous cracks. Counting the deceased Vorchas' ammo, both had four rounds to expend. Altering the weapons' IFF systems, the two peaked out of cover and quickly whittled down a vast majority of the pirate resistance and the Blood Pack squad. Having fully drawn the attention of the remains of the Blood Pack squad, Fredrick jumped down and took cover behind a small wall to engage the defenders head-on.

Poking up from cover, Fredrick cut down an Asari vanguard while Saren gunned down her Turian partner. Fredrick realized amidst the initial chaos, he'd lost track of Qurg. Answering his confusion, he heard an angry growl from above, realizing Qurg had gone to flank Saren. Turing around and leaping back up to the balcony, Fredrick arrived to see Saren pinned to the ground with the warlord training his shotgun at a chink in Saren's shoulder pad at point blank range. Without hesitation, he swiftly kicked the Krogan off and bioticly charged the Krogan, sandwiching the beast against the wall behind him. Putting a hand behind the head crest, Fredrick kicks a leg from under Qurg, and drives his particle blade through the underside of his skull as Qurg falls. Fredrick quickly turns to pick up Saren after the close shave.

"Are you alright Saren? You had me worried there." Fredrick may not have liked this mission when he was first informed, but he was quickly becoming attached to Saren.

"Yeah, nothing too major. I'm surprised you managed to take down Qurg so quickly," Saren replied, taking Fredricks helping hand and getting back on his feet.

"Good. Now let's get Amali before he escapes." The two got down from the balcony once more and quickly charged into the compound. Still left in confusion from the steam from the environmental control center, defeating resistance was a matter of walking through the mist and gunning down anyone that moved. The two checked every floor, and Fredrick scanned for every possible escape route, but found none. Fredrick eventually entered what appeared to be Amali's personal office, but found the room to be largely vacated. All the criminal's personal belongings had been removed with the exception of a single holo-frame on the floor. He reached down to fetch it, showing an image of Amali with what appeared to be his Asari bondmate and single child. Fredrick held onto this picture as he exited the room.

Eventually, the two exited onto the roof of the complex, giving a good overview of the XinDian District below. The two swept from side to side before they heard the whirling of a gunship. Aegaf Amali came roaring from the edge of the building in his personal gunship with his dual-toned voice ringing over loudspeakers. _"Wolf! I should've known it was you tonight. Soon, everyone will know when I put your metal claws on display as trophies!"_ A rocket flew out of a side compartment and detonated within close proximity of the duo, sending them tumbling back behind the building ventilation.

Fredrick and Saren took cover as the gunship hailed MG fire upon the roof. "Saren! Use your biotics to return the missiles to the gunship! Try and lower the ships shields before focusing on the engines!" Fredrick yelled over the rattle of shots ricocheting off the ground around him. Just as another pair of missiles was launched from the platform, Saren did as told, and turned the missiles on the ship. As the ship's shields flickered for a moment, Fredrick peaked from cover and shot the slightly exposed engine, sending it tumbling onto them, and nearly rolled right off.

The two getting up, Fredrick holstered his rifle, drew his pistol, shot the cockpit window, and threw it open. The insides had been lightly dashed with blue blood, and Amali had a metal rod stick through his torso. "Please Wolf! I surrender!" the wounded pirate begged.

"You… you…" Saren started, but couldn't quite force himself to speak his thoughts.

"Something the matter, Saren?" Fredrick asked, showing concern.

Saren started to tremble. "I know his face. I remember him as a child. He was there wh-when… my-my p-p-paaarents-"

"Right, and you must be one of those barefaced Varren of that filthy couple. Should I tell you how much they begged for their lives?" Amali managed to grunt out painfully.

"Have you ever thought about the consequences of your action, Amali?" Fredrick asked, slugging the wounded pirate with a solid blow to his mandible. "Anyways, even as a soldier, I'm still a part of the far-reaching arms of the law. For everything you've done Aegaf Amali, drug trafficking, feeding those who couldn't pay up to wild Varren, and for destroying the lives of millions, I'm under complete obligation to end your life right now," Fredrick hissed as he drew out his pistol and held it up to Amali's head. "Unfortunately, I'm in the position of teaching, so for the sake of today's lesson, I defer to Saren Arterius here," Fredrick growled as he dropped his aim and turned to Saren, handing the young Turian the grip.

"Fredrick, I-I'm willing to put m-my family behind if it means bringing him to justice." Saren didn't take the pistol.

Fredrick then put the pistol besides the ruined gunship. "Then allow me to give some depth to the situation," he said as he drew Amali's holo-photo out.

"Give that back! Give that back!" Amali whimpered painfully in response, as he reached out.

Fredrick ignored this request and continued talking to Saren. "The man before you is a family man. He works to support his beautiful life, and their lovely child here," he explained gesturing to the image. "Through his work, he probably supports them, feeds them, buys them comfort and safety. At the same time however, he causes millions of others to suffer and die. While you may argue that while he is in prison, his family can still thrive, is it really worth the risk of him escaping? Breaking out to continue distributing his drug? That is the choice you must make as a Specter." Fredrick then turned to the pistol and put the holo-photo upright next to the gun. Straightening up and turning towards the roof access, Fredrick said, "I'll be getting out an all-clear signal, so we won't be swarmed on our way out. The choice is yours, my friend."

Fredrick made his way down the stairs and found the nearest downed guard, and picked up the omnitool. He checked on the radio frequencies, only to find that every pirate in the district was aware of the clash at the compound and were preparing to retake the building. He quickly typed out a message to draw their attention away. _"Hostiles eliminated, yet to be identified. Boss says to sweep the district, look for other assailants."_

Just as he sent the message, he heard the familiar crack of a particle pistol off in the distance. As he approached the roof access, Saren came walking down, with his steaming pistol in hand. "Are you alright, Saren?" he asked.

Saren handed back his pistol and quoted what he had said earlier. "If you want justice, you must make an example of them," Saren answered somberly.

Fredrick took back the pistol patted Saren on the shoulder, and smiled. "I'm happy to know you've found closure, and avenged those you've lost. If you're still shaken, let's head to Afterlife. We can relax there." The two walked out of the compound and swiftly made their way out of the XinDian District.

* * *

 **Feb 17, 2155**

 **01 hrs/00 min/30 sec**

 **Afterlife, Omega Station**

Of all the visits Fredrick had paid Omega, he'd never been to the Afterlife club before. After waiting through the long que outside, he and Saren had gotten themselves a few drinks. At this point, the two talked to each other about their respective military lives and missions they'd done. Saren had even begun to smile and share a few laughs with the ancient warrior. After their third drink, a Turian and Krogan bouncers approached them and interrupted their conversation.

"Aria would like to speak to you, Wolf. She has important matters to discuss," the Krogan growled.

Fredrick simply turned back to his drink. "I don't see what she's so worried about. I've yet to go after her."

"She's not going to off you, if that's what you're implying," the Turian reassured. "It just has to do with some of the other groups you've disposed of over the years."

"Alright, fair enough," Fredrick surrendered as he got up. "Come along, Saren. You may as well become familiar with the throbbing heart of this rock," he beckoned.

The two with their helmets under their arms walked up to the throne-like balcony of the Upper-Afterlife area. Aria was looking over the club with its vast mix of lights, dancers, and mass of customers. "Well well, we meet at last Wolf. I was wondering when you would come up here."

"I could easily ask the same, as to why you even bothered to invite me up here," Fredrick said. "If it helps you to sleep better, I have no interest in hunting you down. You're too goddamn important to the lifecycle of Omega, and if I did kill you, I'd really hate to clean up the resulting mess."

"Are you sure there isn't something… deeper to your reasons?" Aria asked with a seductive tone as she turned to face Fredrick and Saren.

"I can assure you, I wouldn't make a good partner in that sense of the word." Asari still rang a negative tone with Fredrick, as a direct result of the Incident.

"And who is the boy you brought along? Someone who got lost?" she chuckled, causing Saren to whimper uncomfortably.

"The council wanted the best to train Arterius here. Apparently, I'm it." Fredrick had already become too emotionally invested into Saren, and wasn't willing to let Aria touch him.

"Relax, I usually don't prefer pets to be _that_ young. Anyways, back to why I brought you up here. You've done a really nice job mopping up Omega, I'm impressed that you've managed to get the job done with as little manpower you're equipped with," she claimed with a subtle sadistic cheerfulness.

"I just so happen to be designed for combat. Anyways, all you wanted to do was complement me?" Fredrick responded.

"As much as I may be the Queen of Omega, competition still exists. There are still groups out there that wish to take this throne that even I had to fight to claim. With you cleaning the streets for me, knocking out competitors that I wouldn't dare touch, it really does take a burden off my back. So name your prize, Wolf," she explained, before leaning back and chuckling.

"I'm not looking for rewards, Aria. I'm just doing my job," Fredrick answered, trying to appear modest.

"Ah, the head-tight soldier like usual. Try to turn your head a little more often. Anyways, I'll give you membership to the VIP club, just as a small bonus regardless. You never know when it'll come in handy."

"Well, thank you Aria. I'll take it regardless as a token of friendship. I'll take whatever allies I can get out here," he thanked before bowing lightly and turning back down the stairs.

"Try and get laid in the mean time, soldier!" she called out with a laugh.

Saren broke his silence when they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Spirits, does she really have to be that creepy?" he whispered.

"From what little that I know, 'creepy' isn't even the start of it. If what little I don know is true, then you better not end up on her bad side. Ever."


	13. Chapter 13: The Crimes we Share

(A/N): More random off-the-record stuff. I didn't have a good idea of what would I would establish between last chapter and the next one after this, but I was tossing ideas around, so it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Chapter 13: The Crimes We Share

 _What had taken decades of combat to turn me into the infamous hell-worn white knight, took only a year to do the same to do with Saren. We quickly became accustomed to each other, respected each other, and I quickly grew to care for the young Turian. I thought I was teaching him to do good for the public. Maybe I was instilling the same type of hatred I had instead._

* * *

 **Oct 24, 2155**

 **09 hrs/14 min/08 sec**

 **Specter Training Center, Citadel Station**

Fredrick had finally put in a requisition order for a LBP machine pistol for Saren's use. While still considerably heavy for someone of Saren's build, combined with the custom-designed mobile BE cell recharger for non-Aug users, Fredrick was confident in Saren's capabilities at this stage of Saren's training. However, it would prove to be a limiting factor on his arsenal, causing Saren to drop all other weapons besides a sniper rifle.

For the last month, the two had been cautiously following the trail of several Batarian Terrorists. Fredrick knew for a fact that Batarians weren't just hostile towards the Terran Republic, and actually had a long history of hostile actions. The bastards' over-zealous aggression had caused them to commit acts that came close to a united offensive against the Hegemony on several occasions. He was surprised that after all these years, especially the hostile first-contact and bloody invasion he had part-taken in, that they wouldn't have begun a more negotiable approach to foreign affairs.

As of right now, Saren was practicing with the new particle weapons at the firing range as Fredrick watched. Terran-made particle weapons were significantly heavier than most thermal-round based weapons, but were completely recoilless. With significant strength, a wielder could compensate for the weight and nullify the sway-factor. As one of the shorter weapons of the Terran Military's arsenal, the distance particles would be accelerated was much shorter, and would result in greater deviation. The weapon was designed for chip damage and close-range combat, and was better overall for crowd control. Fredrick also had the machine pistol modified for Saren's use, and had a hook attached to the stock to hang on Saren's shoulder.

"You're doing a good job, Saren. How do you feel about the weapon so far?" Fredrick asked as Saren holstered the weapon and turned away from the firing range.

"The stock could use a few minor changes. Other than that, I feel the weapon is completely suited for my needs. I greatly appreciate the gift, Fredrick," he answered. Saren had significantly matured during these last few months with Fredrick. He no longer held any doubts about his line of work, and was confident that the galaxy would be safer as a result of his actions.

"Good to know you're becoming suited to the weapon. Anyways, we'll be staying in Citadel Space today, as the troublemakes will be coming to us. Batarians are still as belligerent as ever and I've thoroughly looked over the intel you've so gracefully extracted. I believe their next target is a forum on Thessia," Fredrick explained.

"Are you confident they'd do anything that stupid?" Saren asked.

"I remember dealing with scum like these when I was much closer to your age. It's probably safe to say the more things change, the more they stay the same," he answered bitterly. Despite whatever feelings he held about his early career and what he did on Khar'Shan, Fredrick hated the Batarians with a passion. Their culture, their history, and their behavior in public all gave him reason to gut one the moment he found it isolated.

"I heard about the first conflict between the Augs and Batarians. What was it like?" Saren asked.

Fredrick failed to completely inform Saren about his earliest combat experiences outside of killing wildlife, and was silently kicking himself for it. "It started with two of our scouts getting captured, me and my squad slipping in, and breaking them out while silently leveling all resistance at a Batarian camp. They were furious and were out for blood. We tried to negotiate, but they would listen, and we were rushing for two weeks afterward, fending the rats off at multiple fronts while the factories back on Khonsu finished up our dreadnoughts. No doubt you've heard about the invasion on Khar'Shan before the council stepped in."

"They had it coming though. They wouldn't stop being assholes and paid the price in blood, right?"

"Correct."

* * *

 **13 hrs/17 min/23 sec**

 **Atruora Forum, Thessia**

Thessia, the pristine homeworld of the prestigious Asari race was a sight to behold. It's technological wonders and sleek architecture reminded Fredrick much of Khonsu. However, Asari architecture was more curvy and fluid, whereas Terran architecture was more angular and hexagonal. Fredrick tried to put aside his feelings and past, but he couldn't help but sense an air of smug superiority in the environment. He and Saren had arrived at a small docking station, where a small team of Asari commandos met them.

"This arrival was unscheduled. I'm going to need to see some credentials before I allow you to proceed to your destination," the team captain asked.

Fredrick bit back a hostile growl. The captain reminded him too damn well much about T'zeros, and how pursuing the Harvesters had diverted all attention from finding her. At this point, she was long gone, and had long since retired to the shadows. "No problem. Here, I've been given temporary Specter capabilities while I'm training Cadet Arterius here," Fredrick answered as he held forward a small identification card. "Will there be any other problems?"

The captain looked over the card before handing it back to Fredrick. "The only problem I would have is why you are bringing your protégé here for training instead of deep into somewhere where you are more guaranteed to find trouble."

"I'm not obliged to answer that question soldier," he replied, smugly grinning under his helmet. "Move along."

The captain angrily gestured to her troops to return to their security post at the docks. The two had a good chuckle as they left the station. "I can't wait till the day you can pull that on your own, Saren," Fredrick smiled.

Saren couldn't help but smile widely at the prospect. "The authorities of other Citadel races can't even pull me aside?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The council couldn't care less what you do, they expect results. So long as you don't create too much of a political headache for them to clean and you don't draw attention to their dirty secrets, they don't care how you get the job done or what resources you use. You could very well do business with the Shadow Broker, and they wouldn't bat an eye," Fredrick explained, going over the basic perks of Specter status.

"So, I could've essentially killed those border guards and expected no consequence?" Saren asked once more, grin ever growing wider.

"They are nobodies. They don't bare any political weight among the millions of Asari commandos already in existence." The two gradually made it to a view overlooking a political forum, where dozens of Asari below were busily talking.

"So, what's the approach?" Saren asked.

"The Batarians are brash, but they at least have the processing power to maintain stealth. Regardless of the numbers they have, they won't last long on a planet full of Asari commandos or equipment far superior to their own, we discovered this quickly at first contact. There isn't much cover from the surface for them to hide whatever they may bring, so they could very well be attacking from the sewers."

The two began to wander around the area, looking for a way under the public eye into the shadows of the plumbing. Eventually, Fredrick's intercom implants rang with Saren's voice. _Fredrick, I've found a maintenance crew's vehicle and spare equipment down a small alley towards the southeast of the forum, down an alley. I'm not seeing any sign of the crew._

"If you can't see the crews, the terrorists probably go through to them and have disposed of their remains already. I'll meet you there, we don't have much time to waste." Fredrick quickly dashed over barriers and around crowds of Asari as he made his way towards Saren's position. Eventually, he turned down an empty alley, away from the bustling crowds of the Asari public. Looking around he heard Saren calling to him from another allay tangential to the one he was currently in.

"Fredrick! Down here!" Saren's unmistakable dual-toned voice called. Rushing towards the removed sewer cover next to a small hovercar, he looked down to see Saren in a defensive position. "The area's clear, and I still see no sign of the workers. No equipment, no lights, bodies, or blood. Whatever happened here, the Batarians must've gotten the drop on them."

Fredrick jumped down and drew out his rifle. "Damn! No time to alert the authorities of suspicious activity, we've got to move."

The two walked down the otherwise dry sides of the sewer canal, making their way towards the general location under the forums. Eventually, the two found a pile of what appeared to be the bodies of the sewer cleanup team, all four riddled with thermal shots. "The Batarians have a strange method of confirming kills. Wouldn't it be more effective to use a few rounds to cripple, than finish off with headshots?" Saren asked slowly.

"The Batarians don't treasure marksmanship as an actual tactic. Keep moving." The two continued their way a couple of levels down and around a few corridors till they made their way to an open area in the sewer with various canals weaving around the area, three dozen Batarians, and a large machine in the middle.

"Spirits, they're almost done. Looks like they've set up a gas bomb."

"That's an awful lot of hostiles in there. Sure you can handle yourself, lad?" Fredrick asked.

"I'm sure I can make it through the day without having a limb give out from wear and rust, old man. Let's see how many kills I can beat you by," Saren joked playfully.

It was clear they were out of time, so the two went rushing in without so much as planning how they would take down so many hostiles simultaneously. Saren used his biotics to double his shields while Fredrick deployed his nanites once more to consume his body in a thick, jagged black mass, like he was made of crystal. He lept up a level and began to target hostile after hostile with a few well-placed rifle shots. He dropped the nanite shield, and dove to cover before taking the time to replace his BE energy cell.

Down below, Saren once more displayed his military prowess. From his time under Fredrick, Saren had developed a significantly more aggressive approach to combat. Though he did bring a sniper rifle for the occasion where close-range weapons aren't effective, he would provide himself a barrier, and charge headlong into battle, sticking to sharp corners while dashing across open spaces to close the distance on his enemies. While there was occasionally a hostile who would get close enough to engage in CQC, Fredrick had done more than a sufficient job to train him in Human martial arts. A Batarian came from around a corner and lashed out with a combat knife, only for Saren to catch him by the wrist, dive under the arm and twist the arm behind the assailant's back to force him to drop the knife, then used the same knife to drill into the back of the Batarian's skull.

"How many have you got, Saren?" Fredrick called out as he stomped a Batarian's skull in, resulting in a wet splat.

 _Forteen KIA, what about you?_ Saren answered.

"Bullshit, I'm still one short of a dozen," Fredrick growled competitively.

 _You're getting slow,_ Saren taunted.

"We'll see about that." The fighting continued to rage throughout the room, and the Batarian numbers continued to thin out. Eventually, there were only eight remaining when Fredrick jumped down again. The two regrouped at the machine at the center of the room, when Fredrick put around them a biotic barrier. "Saren, defuse the bomb, I'll keep us covered," he ordered as he fired off more rounds.

"Got it!" Saren quickly went to work as he pulled out his omnitool and began to work with the bomb. Fredrick quickly glanced at the time on the side of the gas dispersal unit.

Thirty seconds

A few shots continued to pelt the green bubble around the two, prompting Fredrick to finally inject himself with an overclock stim.

Twenty-five seconds

Saren nervously looked to the side, and bioticly tossed away a live grenade, for the ball of metallic death to explode behind a pillar. Saren turned his attention back to his omnitool to continue working past the firewall.

Twenty seconds

Suddenly, MG fire pelted the shield from above. Fredrick continued to struggle maintaining the shield until he could finally gun down the attacker.

Fifteen seconds

"The bomb's still ticking, Saren," Fredrick muttered nervously as he looked at the warning label on the side of the tank: Omega-06. Fredrick had worked long enough in the field to know the infamous toxin he first used in the Minos Wasteland. It was Krogan made, and was used to fight to Rachni during the Rachni Wars of the First Century. The gas and manufacturing were quickly outlawed in the aftermath of the Krogan Rebellions, but it didn't stop the weapon from being manufactured from the shadows. As much as various governments did to prevent death to Omega-06, the various components and elements needed to create the toxin were still needed for other life necessities, and the law could only keep an eye on so many manufacturing plants.

Ten seconds

"I'm trying!" Saren exclaimed, still working with his omnitool.

Fredrick was beginning to prepare himself for the sound of Asari above choking on the gas as toxin rapidly degraded their bodies into a fleshy soup.

Five seconds

"I got it! Bomb defused!" Saren shouted.

Three seconds

Fredrick sighed in relief as he dropped the barrier and stood up. He made his way around, checking for kills he failed to complete while simultaneously exterminating a final few around the bombsite. In the corner of his peripheral vision, he saw as single survivor climbing up a ladder up to the surface on the other side of the chamber, right in the middle of the forum. "Saren! We've got a runner! Hurry and get up here!"

Fredrick quickly rushed over to the ladder and began to climb up. When he got to the surface, the Asari in the forum were all panicking as the last Batarian took a single hostage in his grasp. The Asari was in her matron stage, wore a dress with pink and a dash of tan, and had a skin pigment of a slightly darker blue than the usual sand blue.

"No one move, or the bitch dies!" the lone terrorist yells.

"Get off of me, asshole!" the hostage yells. The Asari had an oddly gravelly voice, and was surprisingly defiant for the individual in the hostage position.

"Drop the weapon, Pighead! It's over!" Fredrick barked as he drew out his pistol and trained it on the Batarian.

"Oho! If it isn't the big bad _Wolf_ himself! I should've known you had my scent! Things don't go wrong like they have unless _you_ are around," the last terrorist yelled. "I'm getting off this rock, Wolf! I've got all the cards!"

"Never mind me, just shoot the fucker already!" the hostage yelled.

"You're down thirty five men, and you're on hostile grounds, you won't make it far, Pighead!" Fredrick demanded as he circled around the Batarian.

"Shoot him! Goddess damn you, _shoot him!_ " the hostage yelled once more disregarding her own safety.

Suddenly a loud crack filled the air, and the Batarian fell over, clutching his leg in pain. Fredrick looked back to the Sewer cover to see Saren having peaked out and set up his sniper rifle to incapacitate the last Batarian. "Good shot Saren! I'm proud you got the Bastard," Fredrick complemented as he walked over to cuff the downed terrorist.

"You've taught me well, Fredrick. I'd thought you'd recognize that by now," Saren answered as he climbed out and holstered his rifle.

"Well, I'm impressed you managed to pull the circus act off, Major Müller. I'm Matriarch Aethyta, by the way," the hostage said dusting her off as another matriarch wearing yellow approached her to help her up. "I'm fine, Benezia. Barely a scratch."

"And you were previously telling the Major to disregard your own safety, Aethyta," Matriarch Benezia responded. "I'm grateful you two had saved our lives, Müller. What's happening?"

"Gas bomb and the Pigheads being jackasses like usual. Local authorities would probably like to debrief you once we're all cleaned up, Aethyta," Fredrick answered.

"Well, so long as I have time to finish our conversation," Aethyta said glancing over with annoyance at Benezia.

"I already told you, Liara's inheritance is not yours to decide!" Benezia argued.

"Like hell it is!" Aethyta retorted. "Anyways, who's the kid, Major? I thought you still were in the Terran Military," Aethyta asked, gesturing towards Saren.

"I still am. As of right now, the council wants me to mentor one of their newest Specter candidates. He's very promising, and is their rising star," Fredrick gestured to Saren as he saluted to the two matriarchs.

"Pleasure to meet the two of you, Benezia and Aethyta," Saren nodded as the Asari commando team from the docks showed up to the square.

"Oh by the Goddess, Major Müller. What a surprise to see you here in the heart of today's noise," the captain spat with sarcastic acid. "Here having fun at the expense of Thessian peace?"

"It was either that, or you cleaning a square full of gassed civies," Fredrick answered with equal tone as he crossed his arms. "By the way, there's a gas ordinance under the forum full of Omega-06. You should send a team to clean that out."

"Right, leave me with the mess, asshole," she fired back, increasing her tone's acidity tenfold as she turned to her squad. "You three should close off the square, and get a squad down till we take account of the situation. I'll have another squad follow me down below to take count of damage, bag corpses, and secure the ordinance. You two see that Batarian into custody. We'll take it from here, Müller. We don't need your help anymore, so get out of my sight."

Fredrick and Saren left the square and returned to the space port to quickly make their way back to the Citadel. "So, how many?" Fredrick asked.

"Twenty, kept track the whole time," Saren answered smugly.

"That last one doesn't count, he's still alive," Fredrick countered with a correcting stance.

"Still twenty."

"Dammit," Fredrick responded, prompting laughter from both.


	14. Chapter 14: The Enemy we Share

(A/N): Please give me some input about how young Saren is presented, at least in terms of his pre-ME:Evolution personality. And how well am I portraying the connection between Saren and Fred? At this point, I felt maybe I could afford to make a few adjustments to what actually happened to Saren. I know he didn't know anything about the Reapers (just as a reminder, the Augs dub the Reapers "Harvesters", since they haven't been able to successfully translate anything Prothean using the term) before he is indoctrinated (same goes for the term "infected") by Sovereign (in case you didn't know, Nazara). But to quote a good friend of mine, Canon-Saren is simply too one dimensional, and I feel the same, which is why I'm slightly deviating from canon to give Saren more emotional weight. Anyways, be sure to leave a review as to what to improve, or PM me with personal questions concerning matters that I made unclear for me to make changes to. Also, please contact me with issues concerning this chapter in general, since I did mostly write this chapter late at night. Finally, happy late-night N7 day.

Chapter 14: The Enemy We Share

 _Towards the end of Saren's time over my watch, I decided it was time to test his skill against the shadowy forces of the Harvesters. I felt if he was to be another force against the machines, he needed to see the full extent of the threat before he can even come to stand in their wake on his own. However, I still wonder to this day if it was this very mission that drove him to madness almost thirty years from now._

* * *

 **March 22, 2156**

 **08 hrs/10 min/22 sec**

 **Specter Stealth Shuttle coms room, en route to the Horse Head Nebula**

 _Hey Fredrick! How's training a Specter been?_ Max asked as soon as the com channel completely opened.

"Been nice and fun. Can't help but miss the Corps though," Fredrick answered with a light chuckle.

 _Yeah, I'll try to remember to take you something nice when you get back, consider it a "welcome home" gift. Anyways, what seems to be the problem?_ Max asked.

"You did send me that message this morning about the call from the Horse Head Nebula in the Strennus System?" Fredrick asked. When he woke, he found a message from Max saying, _"Distress call from HH Neb, Stennus. Knowing you, I'd thought you'd want it."_

 _We were expecting a trade cargo ship at 1345 hours a week ago, however they sidetracked to the Stennus System while they were at Pax for refueling. They said they were going to check a distress signal, but never checked back in afterwards. Best part of this little trip is that they were carrying a rather interesting package. I did pass by with a patrol sending messages down to the surface, but whatever they have for receiving messages is very damaged. We suspected the Harvester got through to them. Need to know anything else?_ Max explained.

"I think I find everything else out on my own. Thanks for the heads up. About time I took Saren out to hunt some infected and corrupted. He's a good kid, and he's going to be a big figure in the future if I get this right. Müller out," Fredrick said, ending the conversation.

Just then, Saren entered the coms room while eating an energy bar. "What'd your friend say about our next mission?" Saren asked.

"It's probably about time I explain what we Terrans have been working on for almost the last century. While it goes much deeper, it was about twenty cycles ago when an unknown faction we call the Harvesters contacted us. As far as we can deduce, they've been responsible for the extinction of the Protheans as well as every galaxy-wide civilization for every fifty thousand cycles. We did our best to tell the council, they weren't exactly readily believers of threats that weren't right at their doorstep. While we've also been preparing for everything they'll have, we have also been searching for something to prove their existence, lest we suffer the same fate as the Protheans," Fredrick explained with a grave tone. "Now, I know this is a lot to process in such a short time, so feel free to ask any questions while we are there."

"I see. Any idea what we'll be encountering?" Saren asked.

"A mix of various species brainwashed into doing the Harvesters' bidding, or corpses that have been contorted into abhorrent monstrosities. They may not have the best survival instinct, but they'll try their hardest to tear you limb from limb, so stay sharp," Fredrick answered. "There are a few cases where brainwashed are still capable of some recovery, and can have their conditions reversed given the right treatment. Those who have past a certain threshold, or have become biologically corrupted are beyond saving. Despite all we've done for such, there's nothing we could do but put them out of their misery."

* * *

 **14 hrs/31 min/13 sec**

 **Xawin, one kilometer short of the target location**

Fredrick knew very well that the traders and those who may or may not have captured them were all infected. What he didn't know was whether or not the traders were responding to a genuine distress call, so he was completely cautious about approaching the last known location of the trader ship. As per usual, he liked to keep a solid kilometer between the initial drop site and his mission destination. The two made their way through a wide mountain range instead of the open planes around the area for fear of being spotted.

At one of the peaks of the mountain they were climbing, they could see what looked like a small storage facility down towards the bottom of the valley, as well as the metallic husk of the freight ship. Outside were several guards of various races keeping guard. Surrounding the general area were a few anti-air guns, but they appeared to be unoperational.

"I don't get it. If your friend said the telecoms were destroyed, then why aren't the inhabitants of this camp doing anything about it? They're clearly still functional," Saren pointed out, seeing the damaged antennae near the camp.

"Remember, Harvester artifacts are capable of severely damaging neural tissue to the point where the victim is insane, and capable of being bent to their will. Physical contortions aren't necessarily a sign of infection," Fredrick countered.

"Alright, I'll take the approach from the front and you take the back," Saren responded.

"Woah, _I'll_ take the front. I know you're a capable individual, and I'll trust you with my life any day, but you're still my student. Once you graduate from Specter training, then you can be as suicidal as you like," Fredrick interrupted, tugging Saren towards a direction towards the "rear" of the camp.

The two made their way towards opposite sides of the top level of the storage. The camp was a small building on the surface that would have rooted itself in the side of a small hill, with living units nearby. Towards the front of the entrance were several landing pads, a work dock, and various repair equipment. At the front was a platoon of Blood Pack troops, all wearing full gear to protect them from the cold of Xawin's environment.

Fredrick lept down and made for cover behind a crate. He was at the front and would mainly distract the main force while Saren picked them off from behind from the protection of the hill the building was planted into. Popping out of cover, Fredrick through a stun grenade, blinding the Blood Pack mercs exposed, and began to pick off those who hadn't been blinded. A high-powered thermal shot bounced off his barriers, causing him to retreat back to the cover of the crate he was behind. Another high-powered shot caught him off guard when it ripped right through the crate, and exited mere centimeters in front of his face. Following the tracer, he saw a guard tower from which the shot came from, before another crack shot from the shadows at the tower, causing the Turian to tumble over lifeless.

Fredrick brought back his attention to the other attackers as a Blood Pack Krogan begins to pellet what's left of his cover with shotgun rounds. Initiating his nanite shield, he bioticly charges into the Krogan, then knocks off the helmet with the butt of his rifle. As he realigns his rifle to deliver the killing shot, the Krogan turns to look at him, revealing the merc's distorted face. The clan marking on the crest still remained, but the plating and skin had become gray and decayed. The teeth had grown into fangs, and cracks of blue ran up and down the face, growing ever brighter as the beast howled back. Fredrick ended the merc's life before gunning down another Salarian and Turian. As he replaced his rifle battery, Saren finished the last of the guarding mercs on the surface.

Saren approached the Krogan Fredrick had downed earlier and took a long glance at the corrupted head. "Spirits, what could've done this?"

"This is mostly what I meant by corruption. However, it was more to resurrect dead bodies and use them as foot soldiers, or building blocks for tankier support troops." Almost to prove Fredrick's point, the front of the mining opened to reveal five gray, hulking, and blue glowing beasts. They had the general appearance of Batarians, but their bodily proportions were completely distorted. The back and stomach were bloated with growths, various parts of the body were covered in bone-like armor, and one arm was shrunken and shriveled while the other was transformed into a cannon-like weapon.

"Fuck! Get to cover!" The five began to slowly advance on the two lone warriors while sticking to cover.

"I thought you said these things weren't very smart!" Saren called out as he swiftly gunned down.

"I've only encountered Salarian and Asari versions of these things. Besides, these things barely have any protection," Fredrick answered as he gunned down another two. From cover, one of the creatures bent over and consumed one of it's fallen comrades, as the remains were reduced to a thick soup, causing additional organic plates to grow on afterward. "Goddammit, as if these things weren't annoying enough to fight," Fredrick responded as he put up a biotic barrier in front of him and Saren. Quickly advancing, the two quickly eliminated the remaining corrupted before making their way to the entrance of the facility.

"Shiiiiit, this reminds me so much of horror stories told back at the orphanage. Stuff about skeletal Turians with nothing but some of their plates and bones just loosely reanimated with some sort of dark energy. They would be described as bleeding blue light from their eyes and mouths like a glowing mist," Saren said as they passed by some of the other corpses.

"Well, Terran pop culture does have it's fair-share of horror stories based upon necromancy and other means of resurrecting the dead," Fredrick said, relating to Saren's brief description.

"But why so popular if we haven't encountered anything like them until now?" Saren asked.

"They're already dead, so there's absolutely no reason to justify killing them. Let's move, and see if we can find a way to find what caused this and present it to the council." The two entered the facility like they were entering the jaws of a sleeping Thresher Maw, waiting quietly for them to enter before closing its mouth and swallowing them.

Unlike the mine on Vecchio, the panels and infrastructure were all still intact with the exception of damaged equipment. The lights still worked, but were putting out a much dimmer glow, making seeing much more difficult to natural eyesight. Upon entering the front lobby, they were immediately attacked by a trio of corrupted mercs, which were actually each a pair of Vorcha and another species stitched together like leather sacks. They still retained most of their crimson armor, had bits of machinery intertwined with their rotting flesh, and whatever they had for weapons was fused into their melting arms. While they still had their shields and most of their armor, the fleshy sacks were quickly eradicated. The two continued to make their way to the internal barracks, not too far from the entrance and looked around. Saren found a journal of an unnamed merc by a bedside and brought it back to Fredrick to examine. The two began to quickly look over recent recordings to investigate the series of events leading up to the fall.

The first entry from within the last week made it pretty clear the journal belonged to a Turian. _"We just recently brought in a haul using the fake distress signal. The ship was a bunch of scrap traders, so they had minimal defense, and moderate rewards. What was most intriguing was this heavily crate, with thick plates to… I dunno, block scans. We hacked the thing open to find this black obelisk, with lines of orange worming around the thing, almost like it was constantly burning on the inside. We plan on selling the survivor to slavery, but I can't help but wonder to whom they were selling it. They won't say a damn thing though."_

The second entry from within the last week began to show signs of deterioration among the crew. _"I knew that damn thing was trouble. All the guys are beginning to act weird. The heavies are aimlessly wandering around at night, some are saying they are seeing and hearing things, and the captain just spends ours at a time just staring at the rock. He says he's 'talking to it' and it's starting to put me on edge. He says we should keep quiet until we better understand it. I'm thinking I should just make for the gunship and get out of here."_

The third entry from the last week began to show signs of deterioration from the writer. _"I'm feeling weird. Time seems to pass slower or faster than it should, what is normal routine seems… confusing, and I was talking the other day with the new kid about a raid on some Salarians back on Omega who didn't pay rent, and he straight up tells me he remembers the same thing, when he was in no way recruited at the time to be there. I keep visiting the team medic, yet she keeps telling me I'm fine. Wh-what's happening to me?"_

The fourth and final entry was from a little over twenty-four hours ago, and clearly displayed how the merc had completely surrendered his mind. _"I… I understand now. They need us; they need us to help them. And in return, we'll live like kings, be able to retire young, not have to worry any more… All we need to do, is listen to their word…"_

"What in Spirits name… his tones… was he being driven insane?" Saren asked.

"They all were. The artifact is most definitely of Harvester origin. The energy waves they produce are of an incredibly low frequency, and hard to detect. Within a certain range, they can affect the brain chemistry, causing the previously mentioned hallucinations. Slowly, the energy causes cellular decay, your neural patterns become irregular, you develop brain tumors, and your hormone glands become contorted, and either stop producing, or start producing something new, something to make sure you stay loyal. The rate at which complete infection can occur varies from mere hours to a few weeks from some studies we've produced," Fredrick explained.

"Huh, I almost feel sorry for the bastards," Saren spat bitterly. "How are we going to get it back without becoming infected ourselves? By the sounds of things, they didn't handle the packaging in a way that we could actually put it back on functionally."

"For now, we'll just have to clear the facility, get the shuttle, and return when we have a safer means of transportation." Another howl came from outside of the barracks followed by some scratching noises.

"They don't seem very keen about having house guests. What are you looking for?" Saren said when he noticed Fredrick ripping open the lockers.

"Crowd control. If it's anything I've learned from fighting these things, is that you should stay on the move and carry mostly weapons capable of leveling big groups in little time. In hindsight, I probably should've brought an MG-14," he replied. He punched open the dozenth locker and his smile instantly grew when his eyes landed on the M-51 Revenant battle rifle before him. Decent stopping power, high rate of fire, and good accuracy for those who can withstand the weight and recoil, the Revenant was beast to behold among law enforcers.

Fredrick plucked the machine up, shoved in a thermal clip, took a sack with spare clips, and turned to entrance of the barracks to prepare for the oncoming onslaught. What came through was actually nothing more than simple corrupted, corpses with some synthetic tissue, and just as fragile as such. Fredrick's biotics flared, and he released a shockwave, sending corpses tumbling to the sides before shattering on the walls like frozen meat. He charged out to meet the other corrupted waiting outside, and dashed to cover. Once more, it was the stretched Asari remains, howling like the wind, and using their biotics to close the distance.

"Keep your distance! They will attempt to impale you on their claws!" Fredrick yelled over the sound of the Revenant pelting the once graceful women with a storm of thermal rounds. Unfortunately, clip size wasn't kept in mind when the weapon was designed, and he suddenly had to reload only shortly after reducing the first corrupted Asari to a gray pulp.

Saren quickly sniped a corrupted Asari that got too close to Fredrick while he was still reloading and put a round through the head of the third. "How many times have you encountered these things before?" Saren asked as he shot another Batarian/Salarian molded creature.

"Just short of a dozen times. The Harvesters have yet to make a serious push with these things." The two managed to keep going as they gunned down wave after wave of the dark creatures. Fortunately, the main generator was still functional and kept the shelves of stolen goods and contraband yet to be shipped. The two made it down a stairwell before eventually making their way down to the lowest storage level. The two were shocked to behold the sight before them.

The center of the room had been cleared out, shelves had been moved aside, and the artifact was placed right in the center of the space. Just as the journal log had suggested, the crate had been torn open like a present on Christmas and thrown aside to reveal the black and orange obelisk inside. Gradually, the object began to "grow" chrome tendrils onto the ground and area around it like a fungus, fusing to whatever it touched. The area appeared to serve as an alter, where the tendrils had grown spikes, and victims still remained impaled on the towers reaching upward.

"Great, just how are we going to get it out now?" Fredrick muttered. Clearing the base of corrupted was one thing, uprooting a synthetic-organic compound that was capable of driving those who got too close insane was another.

"Look out! Heavies!" Saren yelled, ramming into Fredrick and tumbling into cover just as rockets screamed across the room and detonated where they were previously. Just as the rockets exploded, a film grain covered his eyes, some of the colors became off tune, and sounds became echoic. Saren began to clench his head in some imaginary pain. "What in Spirit's name is happening?" he screamed.

"Stay with me dammit! We're leaving!" Fredrick responded, dragging himself and Saren back to the stairwell, while using his biotics to divert the next pair of incoming missiles. With the effects slightly subsiding at a greater range, and with the cover of the entrance, Fredrick got on his knees and injected Saren with additional nanites. "Saren! Stay with me! Can you understand me?" He'd already come this far, and wasn't going to lose Saren.

Saren shook himself like he was suffering from a concussion from an artillery shell. "Ugh… my head…" he groaned painfully.

"Don't worry, the effects will subside. Just focus on me, and try to ignore the hallucinations." Suddenly another two explosions shook them from outside, snapping Saren to attention.

"What are they doing? They'll bring down the whole building!" Saren exclaimed.

"I don't think they have any intention of letting us get away with that artifact," Fredrick said nervously as the whole compound began to waver.

The two got up and began to make their way back up through the storage facility. Piece by piece, bit of the facility began to collapse around the two, occasionally crushing remaining corrupted on their way out. On occasion, either would use their weapons or biotics to strike down any who got in between them and the exit. As they both exited the storage facility as the main archway collapsed, only the film grain subsided.

"Are you alright Saren? The nanites should be repairing any damage the artifact should've done," Fredrick said to his panting protégé.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Give me a moment before we make our way back to the ship, alright?" Saren answered, sitting on the landing pad and catching his breath.

Just then, Nazara's voice rang in Fredrick's ears. _"If you won't secede to the inevitable, perhaps he will. How long do you think it'll take for him to turn?"_

Fredrick only grunted in frustration. _"Unlikely. I've done everything to prepare Saren for the likes of you. Even if I fall in the field, he'll still take up the mantle to lead this Galaxy to stop you. He's more resilient than you believe."_

 _"Don't count on it,"_ Nazara teased before the film grain dissipated.

The two were now alone, tired, and gradually making their way back to their shuttle. Their lead destroyed and well over a hundred were dead, but Saren now knew the truth and had the firsthand experience to believe it. It may take a while for everyone to believe, but Fredrick genuinely began to believe he wasn't capable of leading the Galaxy to defeat the Harvesters. He may have paved the way for others, and he may eventually be the spearhead for the Augs. But if the Galactic Community is to succeed, it needed to be unified under a single figure, someone to give them the hope he couldn't. If anything, it is what he wanted to establish Saren as, regardless of how others may see him.


End file.
